The Jongurian Mission (25 page)

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Authors: Greg Strandberg

BOOK: The Jongurian Mission
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“I can understand that you protect the provinces from threats from without,” Bryn said, “but what about threats from within?
Right now, when the country is not trading with Jonguria, the people are suffering. The country is in a rut because there are not enough markets for the goods that’re produced here at home, and people’s livelihoods are threatened. By sitting back and watching from your towers,” Bryn said, pointing at the Ithmian insignia on the breast of Palen’s uniform, “the country you talk so much about protecting is under assault from forces far more numerous and deadly than any enemy army. Your indifference is doing more to hurt Adjuria than your sword could ever hope to achieve in its protection.”

He finished, surprised that he
’d just lectured the highest-ranking member of Fadurk’s garrison, and the delegate most looked-up to and admired at the conference. Shamed at his outburst, Bryn turned quickly on his heels and ran toward the doors and away from the shocked Palen.

He burst through the double doors and into the hallway, nearly knocking over a serving girl in his haste to exit the great hall.
He stood breathing heavily for a few moments before a guard approached.

“Are you alright, lad
?” the man asked.

Bryn nodded quickly.
“Yes, thank you sir, I’m fine. Can you show me the way to the map room please?”

“Right this way, if you’ll just follow me,” the guard replied, turning to walk down the hall.
Bryn followed close behind and after the usual twists and turns which he still couldn’t follow he was ushered into the nearly full conference room. Most of the delegates and their advisors were already present and talking together around the room. Bryn spotted Orin and Rodden in their usual spots and crossed the room to join them.

“Get your fill of fruit, then lad?” Orin asked as Bryn sat down.

Bryn’s brows furrowed down, unsure what Orin was talking about, before realizing the reason he’d given for staying in the great hall.

“Yes sir,” he quickly said.
“We don’t have so many different varieties of fruit back home.”

“Aye, that’s right,” Orin said
absently. “Best to sample as many as you can before heading back.”

Bryn thought he heard a bit of sadness in Orin’s voice, but his attention was suddenly drawn toward the doors where Palen was entering the room.
He strode to his seat just a few chairs down from where Bryn was sitting, paying no attention to him or any of the others in the room as he sat down and stared in front of him, waiting for the afternoon proceedings to get under way. Bryn gave a sigh of relief. After his outburst, he thought it a strong possibility that Palen would charge into the room and beat him senseless where he sat. He wished he’d never have had the fool notion of speaking to Palen in the first place. What possibly convinced him that he could make the man see their dilemma any clearer than Halam had?
What an idiot I am
, Bryn thought to himself. It would be better for all the sooner he was back in Eston clearing fields and mending fences.

As had happened before, when it appeared
that all of the delegates were present, a guard knocked on the small rear door and the king strode through to take his seat at the table, his advisors close behind. Tullin rose to address the crowd and get things underway.

“Gentlemen,” he began as usual, “I hope lunch was to your satisfaction and that while you filled your stomachs with food you also filled your minds with thoughts on the two policies presented this morning.
To reiterate, we have a policy presented by Jossen Fray from Regidia which would divide Adjuria into northern and southern trading zones, with goods being shipped from each to markets in Jonguria. The hope is that this will decrease the competition between provinces with similar goods by diverting them to markets where they cannot compete.”

“The second policy is presented by Halam Fiske of Tillatia and would take away the authority of the provinces to trade with Jonguria independently, instead giving that power to a government council here in Baden.
The aim of this policy is to have the government negotiate trade deals with Jonguria on behalf of the provinces. The hope is that this will create more profits for the provinces while decreasing any bad feelings produced from the provinces acting independently, and often in their own self-interests.”

After presenting the two plans in terms more succinct than the two delegates had done earlier, Bryn thought, Tullin continued.

“It
’s now time to vote on these two proposals. A majority of the delegates seated at the table will be required for one or the other plan to pass and become policy. Voting will be quite simple; if you agree with the policy and want to support it, simply raise your arm up and be counted. We will continue voting until either policy has a majority, or until it is clear that neither policy has a chance of acquiring a majority of votes, at which point we will adjourn.” He looked around at all the delegates and advisors in the hall, letting his words sink in. It was clear what he was saying, Bryn thought. If neither of these two plans obtained a majority of votes, the conference would end in failure.

“Since the policy of Regidia was presented first this morning, we will vote on it first.
All of those in favor of the Regidian policy, please show your hands.”

All of the arms across the table from Bryn went up except one, that of Pader Brun.
As was expected, Shefflin, Oschem, Hotham, Allidia, and Regidia all voted for the plan, with Dolth Hane of Equinia throwing his support behind it as well. After a few moments, Tullin spoke.

“Six votes for the Regidian policy,” his voice rang out, “not enough for a majority.”
Mumblings rose from around the table as he continued. “We will now vote on the policy of Tillatia. All of those in favor of the Tillatian policy, please show your hands.”

Halam’s arm shot up first, followed by Willem’s, Millen’s, Edgyn’s, Iago’s, and from the other side of the table, Pader’s.
As expected, Whent and Palen did not participate in the voting.

“Six votes for the Tillatian policy,” Tullin recorded, “not enough for a majority.”
The mumblings around the table were louder this time, and Bryn noticed that quite a few of those supporting the Regidian policy across the table were smiling to each other, certain that they’d succeeded.

“We will have another vote,” Tullin said.
Let us wait a few minutes so that the delegates have some time to consider changing their vote. Across the table it was almost as if the Regidian plan had already passed. The men were laughing and congratulating themselves. On the other side of the table the mood was somber, and the delegates looked from one to the other for any sign of what to do. Bryn remembered Pader’s words during lunch. If it looked like Halam’s plan had no chance of success, he would change his vote in the interests of Adjuria. Looking at the Culdovian delegate staring down at his lap, the weight of the world seeming to weigh on the man’s shoulders it looked like that was about to occur, Bryn thought.

“Gentleman,” Tullin’s voice called out, bringing the hall back to order.
“Once again we will vote. Please show your hands if you support the Regidian policy.”

Again, all the hands across the table went up.
Bryn looked eagerly at Pader, but his arm remained at his side, as did all of those on his uncle’s side of the table.

“Six votes for the Regidian policy, unchanged,” Tullin called out.
He waited a few moments as the anticipation in the hall built. It seemed to Bryn that many in the hall were now expecting one or more of the delegates who had supported Halam to switch their votes in favor of Jossen. The hall fell deathly quiet.

“Please show your hands if you support the Tillatian policy,” Tullin called out, his voice seeming to echo off the maps on the walls.

Again, Halam was the first to put up his arm, and he did so with a strength that hid any doubts he may have privately held concerning the outcome.
As before, all of the undeclared delegates but Whent and Palen joined him, with Pader putting up his hand across the table as well. Halam looked to each side of him, but it was clear that no other votes would be forthcoming.

“Six votes for the Tillatian policy, unch–”

“Wait,” a deep voice called out, interrupting Tullin. The whole room looked down the table at Palen, who slowly raised his arm up into the air. A collective gasp was heard from the room, as most couldn’ believe that the Ithmian would support either plan.

“Seven votes for the Tillatian policy, one vote more than the previous ballot,” Tullin said loudly,
“but still not a majority.”

Behind Tullin, the king coughed loudly into his hand, drawing the hall’s attention.
When Tullin turned around, the king too raised his arm up into the air, to a gasp even louder than that received for Palen’s unexpected vote.

“Eight votes for the Tillatian policy,” Tullin called out.
“With a clear majority of votes, the Tillatian policy passes the conference.”

The hall erupted into chaos as those around Halam rose up to clap him on the back and celebrate their amazing success, while across the table the delegates and their advisors shouted at Tullin and anyone else that they
’d been robbed, that the king was not a delegate and therefore had no right to vote, and anything else that would reverse the results. Jossen simply sat in his chair, that sneering smile on his face as he looked across the table at Halam.

 

FOURTEEN

Bryn still couldn’t get over it.
Here he was, a mere peasant farmer from Eston, sharing a sumptuous meal with the King of Adjuria, Rowan Waldon. Well, it wasn’t just him; his Uncle Halam and some of the other delegates had also been invited to dine with the king that evening.

The scene from earlier in the afternoon was still fresh in Bryn’s mind.
Loud cries of disapproval had been heard from the delegates and advisors who had supported the Regidian trade policy. No one, it seemed, had any idea that that the king would, or even could, vote in the conference. The fact that Palen Biln had broken with countless years of Ithmian tradition by entering into the political debate of the provinces had come as a huge shock, but then for the king to join that debate as well proved too much for many to take. When Tullin managed to restore some semblance of order to the hall after several fruitless minutes of trying, he’d reminded all present that the king was not just a ceremonial figurehead of the country, but the actual representative of Adjuria to its people and the rest of Pelios. Indeed, he’d went on to tell the crowd, the king had full voting rights on the royal council, so why should they think that his role would be any different for the trade conference? Loud grumblings and many complaints had followed those pronouncements, but there was little that the delegates could do, and they knew it. The Tillatian trade policy had now become the law of the land, and would soon be implemented so that Adjuria and Jonguria could begin trading with one another as soon as possible.

As Bryn
had watched his uncle be congratulated by all of those delegates who’d supported his plan, as well as many who’d not, he too had felt felt the success and adulation. Most had come over to shake Halam’s hand, with many giving a friendly slap on the back or warm hug. Iago Cryst of Mercentia went so far as to hoist Halam off the floor and raise him up in a well-natured shake, much to the surprise and delight of all who saw. Halam had taken it all in stride, downplaying any leading part he may have had in the success of the plan which bore his province’s name. It was a joint effort of many of the provinces who sought better trading conditions, he’d explained to those who gathered around him, and the praise needed to be shared among all of them equally. But the delegates weren’t buying that for a minute. They knew who’d come up with the plan and who’d done the most to see it through the conference. Halam was being hailed as the master politician of the hour, but to Bryn it had seemed like he just wanted to get back on Juniper and ride home to Plowdon.

The only moment of tension that arose following the initial shock and resolution of the two unexpected votes
had come when Jossen appeared from across the room to offer his congratulations to Halam. Leaning heavily on the cane in his left hand as he was always forced to do when walking, Jossen had been given a wide berth by the crowd of delegates and advisors crowding around Halam in his moment of glory. Many in the hall knew something of the disputatious relationship between the two men which stemmed from the Civil War, and a tense hush fell over the hall. Jossen had limped over to stand in front of Halam and offered his hand, which Halam took.

“It would seem that the better policy has passed,” Jossen
had said, shaking Halam’s hand. “I congratulate you on your success.”

“Thank you Jossen, your plan was also worthy, and you put up a good fight.
I didn’t think that we’d have the votes.”

“Nor did I,” Jossen
had said sneering, “nor did I.”

Halam
had only smiled in return as Jossen continued.

“How you managed to win Palen over to your side will perhaps always remain a mystery,” he
had said, looking around the room. Palen was nowhere to be seen, having exited the hall during the tumult which occurred soon after the voting concluded. “And to have the king on your side as well,” Jossen had trailed off, shaking his head. “My Halam, you do seem to have a wide assortment of friends.”

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