The Jongurian Mission (27 page)

“Excuse me, your grace,” Rodden stammered after a few moments, “but did I hear you correctly? Did you just say that most of us will be sailing to
Jonguria
?”

“That I did, Rodden,” Rowan replied, his smile now a little larger at the obvious discomfort this had caused around the table.

“But your grace,” Millen said anxiously, “My place is in the fields of Fallownia, seeing that the seeds are planted and the harvest brought in. I’ve only been on two boats in my life, both to the Baishur River, and neither of those trips are fond memories.”

Several of the men chuckled despite themselves at Millen’s obvious discomfort.

“Millen, I don’t think that Fallownia will cease to function properly if you
’re absent for a few weeks on important government business for the king himself,” Tullin assured him from across the table.

“But…” Millen managed, trying to think of some rebuttal but coming up short.

“I know that most of you expected to head back to your provinces following the trade conference,” Rowan said loudly to the men, his voice echoing off the high wall of the hall, “but there’s more work to be done now that we have a policy in place.” He paused to see that he had everyone’s attention; satisfied, he continued. “While we’ve taken the first step by bringing the provinces to an agreement, we’ve still to notify the Jongurians of our intentions to open up trade. The only way to do this is to sail a ship to a port on the coast or trudge across the Isthmus to Waigo. Now,” the king paused, looking at the Millen, “I think most of you will agree that taking a ship is far more preferable to braving the Isthmus.”

Bryn looked over at Palen to see if he reacted in any way to the king’s words about walking across the isthmus, but Palen was like stone as he listened to his ruler give his speech.

“But why us, your highness?” Halam asked. “Surely there are men more acquainted with Jonguria and better able to report our desire to renew trade.”

“We’ve not traded wi
th Jonguria for more than twenty years, Halam,” Rowan responded. “In the past the provinces oversaw trade on their own, and many of the men whose role it was to carry that out are no longer capable, whether from age, death, or some other circumstance. We’ve looked around the country for such men, but have found them to be lacking in all regard to the purpose.” He looked around the table at the men seated, many still wary about the words pouring from their king’s mouth. “I understand that many of you are reticent and feel unequal to the task I set before you. But I believe you’re just the men that the situation calls for. You all somehow managed, against great odds, to push a trade policy through this conference; and all of you hold positions dealing with trade within your own provinces. Gentlemen, there is no one better qualified in Adjuria than yourselves to convince the Jongurians to come to the table.”

“Will all of us be going then?” Orin asked after the king’s words had sunk in for a few moments.

“Not you Orin,” Rowan replied. “You sit on the royal council, and we will need you there to represent Tillatia for government business to carry on.” He looked down the table at Palen. “That goes for you as well Palen. You’re much too important to the garrison at Fadurk for you engage in this business.” Palen gave a simple nod, and the king looked over the other men around the table. “Besides Orin and Palen, the rest of you will be expected to go.”

“You can’t expect Bryn to go, he’s just a boy,” Halam said.

“I do expect Bryn to go,” Rowan replied. “He was instrumental in ensuring the passage of the provincial trade policy.”

Halam, as well as most of the other men around the t
able, looked surprised. “What did Bryn have to do with its passage?” he asked, unsure exactly what the king was implying.

“Why, Halam,” Tullin answered, “he did what neither you, Jossen, or any of the other delegates and their advisors
were capable of doing: he convinced Palen to support you.”

“What– I–” Halam could not seem to find any words to say to that, and he looked around speechless at the other delegates, although they too shared his surprise.

“Before the final voting took place, Bryn took it upon himself to approach Palen in the great hall and try what many other men in loftier positions had already attempted to do:
convince Ithmia to go against years of tradition and get into provincial politics,” Tullin explained. “In the end it was the lecture from a Tillatian farm boy that accomplished what promises and platitudes could not.”

Halam looked from Bryn to Palen and back again.
“Is this true, Bryn? Did you lecture Palen?” He said the last in a quiet tone, as if he’d be struck down for saying such a vile thing.

Bryn looked from Palen to his uncle to the king, before settling his gaze on Halam and answering.

“It’s true,
Uncle Halam. I thought it was worth a try earlier today at lunch to talk with Palen one more time. I honestly didn’t expect anything to come from it, and was ashamed with myself afterward for taking such a tone with a delegate.” He looked down the table at Palen who returned his gaze. “I’m sorry sir.”

Palen laughed, and the men around the table were caught off guard almost as much as they were by Bryn’s sudden admission.
“Your words held a truth my ears have needed to hear for a long time,” Palen replied, “and they reminded me of another man who questioned my judgment in the past: your father, Shep.”

“You knew my father?” Bryn blurted out, surprised.

“Aye lad, we got to know one another quite well when we braved the Isthmus together during the war,” Palen replied.

Bryn stared down at his plate, at a loss for words, before the king continued.

“And without Palen’s vote, I wouldn’t have been able to offer mine,” Rowan explained. “There had to be a near-majority for me to exert my power as king, and only by casting the deciding vote was I ready to lend my support.”

“So if that one extra vote had gone to Jossen…” Orin began, looking at the king.

“Then it would be Jossen and his supporters sitting at this table tonight instead of you,” Rowan finished for him.

“No matter what his role may have been,” Halam said, ignoring the latest exchange, “the southern shores of Jonguria are no place for Bryn.”

“Much has changed since the days when you fought at Bindao,” Tullin replied, “and I doubt that Bryn will be in any greater danger than the rest of you.”

“So you expect danger, then?” Iago asked.

“Not at all,” Mito said from the end of the table. It was the first any of the men had heard him speak, and his voice was strong and authoritative, a sharp contrast from his aged appearance. “We do, however, know that there is trouble in Jonguria. The emperor’s hold on the country has weakened since the war ended, and rebel groups have risen up in different areas. We don’t think this will be anything to worry about during your trip to Nanbo Island, however.”.

Many of the men shifted in their chairs uncomfortably at Mito’s words.
None of them knew what the political situation of Jonguria was, but the fact that there was a fair amount of instability in the country only increased their concerns about the task at hand.

“What we expect is that the Jongurians will
be happy to renew trade with us and that this first mission will simply be an opportunity to get things moving,” Rowan said from the head of the table. “It will simply be a short while longer before things return to where they were before the war, once our intentions are known to the emperor.”

“You mean that we hope it
’s that simple?” Rodden asked.

“I don’t see why it
shouldn’t be,” Rowan replied.

The table grew silent as the men pondered this latest development in a day fraught with such.
Bryn most of all was taken aback. Not only did the king, and now the rest of the delegates, know of his exchange with Palen, but they actually praised him for it. He couldn’t believe it. And now they wanted him to accompany an exhibition to Jonguria? It was more than he ever thought possible while reading of the distant land on cold winter nights huddled close to the fire on the farm in Eston. But most of all he thought of the father he never knew and Palen,the man who had fought with him during the war.

FIFTEEN

Following dinner the men thanked the king for the hospitality shown to them over the previous two days, wished each other goodnight, and went back to their rooms.
In the morning they were to meet on the palace grounds where they’d be outfitted for the journey south to Dockside, whereupon Edgyn was tasked with finding a ship suitable to their purposes of sailing to the small island of Nanbo, off Jonguria’s southern coast.

It had been an eventful day, so Bryn was glad for the chance to head back to the room for some much needed rest.
Once back, washed up, and with his clean clothes neatly folded on a chair next to the bed, it didn’t take long for sleep to come.

In the morning they were shown to the great hall one more time for breakfast.
Many of the men who had come to Baden for the conference had already left the city, but enough remained for the hall to be half-full. They spotted Orin, Millen, and Edgyn at a far table and walked over to join them.

“Good morning, gentleman,” Edgyn said, “I hope you slept well, for tonight may be
one of your last nights spent sleeping in Adjuria for a while, and certainly the last sleeping in the royal palace for some time.”

The table held plates of sausage and eggs, oatcakes and honey, and sliced melons and grapes, with hot apple cider to wash it down.
They sat down on the rough wooden benches and began serving themselves.

“It’s too bad that we’ll spend that last night sleeping on the hard ground next to the King’s Road,” Rodden said, breaking an oatcake in two and liberally poring honey on it.

“Oh, we’ll not be sleeping on the King’s Road,” Edgyn replied with a sly smile. “On one of king’s ships perhaps, but not on his road.”

“You mean that we’ll be taking a boat across the King’s Lake and down the King’s River to Dockside then?” Halam asked between bites of sausage, the juices dribbling down his chin and into his beard as he ate.

“Aye, it’ll be quicker than on horseback and’ll take us right to the piers in Dockside; we’ll have no need to traverse the city streets. I expect it’ll save us half a day,” Edgyn mused.

“How does that sound to you Bryn?
Never been on a boat before, have you?” Orin asked from across the table.

“No sir, I haven’t.”
Bryn replied. He’d thought about it many times, especially on those occasions when he’d traveled as far as the Tillata River as a boy and seen small boats sailing down to Plowdon or up to the Ipsalar Ocean. Now he’d actually have a chance to travel down one of the busiest rivers in the kingdom to the wondrous city of Dockside, where he’d then transfer to a larger seagoing ship for a once in a lifetime trip to Jonguria. Sometimes it was just too much to think about!

“Well, you’ll be fine on the river, but the Ocean
’ll be another matter,” Orin said with a chuckle. “I well remember the first time I took passage on a sailing ship; spent most of the voyage heaving my lunch over the side when I was lucky, and below decks when I wasn’t.”

All of the men laughed except Millen, who frowned at Orin’s story and looked a little queasy as he pushed his plate of half-eate
n sausage and eggs away.

Pader, Willem, and Iago came over to their table and joined them, grabbing plates and forks as they sat down.

“We’re to report to the palace entrance when we’re done eating,” Pader said as he scooped a large pile of eggs onto his plate. “From what I hear, the boat that’ll take us down to Dockside is being outfitted as we speak.”

“With any luck we’ll be in Dockside early tomorrow morning,” Willem said between sips of cider.
“The winds are blowing favorably to the south, and with the winter runoff pouring down from the Montino Mountains we should make good time.”

“Any plans for when we arrive in Dockside, Edgyn?” Iago asked while chewing an oatcake.

“I sent word to the city last night to have the
Comely Maiden
prepared for a long voyage,” Edgyn answered. “I expect she’ll be having her holds filled with provisions as we speak, her deck and sides washed and scrubbed down, and her sails inspected and re-rigged. By the time we arrive tomorrow morning we should be able to do a quick transfer from the river boat to the ship and be heading east before the sun is halfway in the sky.”

“How long will the voyage take?” Halam asked.

Edgyn tugged on his pointed goatee as he thought. “With calm seas and a fair wind, I’d say we could reach Nanbo within a week.”

“A whole week at sea,” Bryn said, surprised that the journey would take that long.
From the books he’d read and the stories he’d heard he expected the trip to take a couple of days. But then in the stories the heroes never had to sit around killing time in the middle of the ocean while they waited on the wind to blow them to their destination.

“Aye,” Edgyn replied, spearing melon slices with his knife and sticking them in his mouth.
“We’ll head southeast for a few days skirting the Ithmian Sea before we reach the southwestern edge of Ximen province. From there we’ll head straight east for another few days until we reach Nanbo. We may come in under a week, we may come in over. It all depends on the winds.”