Chapter 20: Matters of State

****

And though we try and justify ourselves

And though we believe we are right

And we see the flaws in our logic

And we know the issues to be overcome

 

We carry on

Not for ourselves

But for the good of all

So please Father, Grant us yet another day

****

Year of Wrath 1231, Season of Waiting, D.1, Michéle

      Michéle sat alone in his office, slowly swirling his drink in the glass. The documents he was pouring over didn’t seem to hold anything eventful. Reports of the day from the Watch; That cleric of Xelex at it again, he never seemed to get the picture. An attempted robbery in the market square, suspect apprehended, currently sitting in the prison below the Palace. Another scuffle at the Gorgon’s place, another trade deal gone wrong no doubt. 

      There was noise outside the closed door, looking up he saw nothing. Eyeing the door, he cautiously went back to pursuing his papers. “You know,” The voice caught him off guard, he fell from his chair whipping the revolver out of its holster. 

      A hand grabbed his wrist and pointed the firearm down at the floor. Michéle relaxed, though reluctantly as he recognized the heavily scarred man. The Sightless hunter he had hired to investigate the goblins. The hunter helped him back up and righted his chair for him.

      “Do you always have to sneak around in the shadows like that?” Michéle grumbled, dabbing at the spilled drink with a handkerchief. 

      “Well,” The hunter made a noise that Michéle could understand as a chuckle, but sounded nothing like it. “You make it too easy, you didn’t even notice me as I opened the door.”

      Rubbing his temples with annoyance, chastising himself for not paying more attention. He was the Captain of the Guard afterall, he couldn’t make mistakes like that when that Delegation would arrive. “What have you found out?” He spoke as he regained his composure. 

      “Hmm, to put it simply. I think those goblins you think so low of are fascinating” The hunter drew out the last word as he practically purred. 

      “I don’t want to know. What do you have to report.” He stated again, gesturing his hands for the hunter continue.

      “Payment first, I spent weeks stalking around their village. Very attentive to changes, they are. Nearly spotted a dozen and a half more.” The hunter insisted, toying with a heavy iron knife in its sheath as it sat on his chest. 

      Michéle opened a drawer near the floor, flipping open a false bottom. He tossed the hunter a hearty bag of coins and a letter of credit. He raised an eyebrow, waiting for the hunter to begin. 

      He took a coin out and bit it, checking its purity. “Certainly from the treasury. Never get tired of the taste of real gold. Anyway, the key points, as I’m sure you aren’t going to be interested in most of my observations.”

      “Fair assessment.” Dryly he commented, pouring himself another drink.

      “You’re a bit of a dick, Michéle. So long as you pay, my opinions mean nothing. There appears to be a schism forming in their ranks. A troupe of an apparent old guard that wishes to keep doing as they do. Attacking and raiding as they need. The other is a troupe that is becoming less reliant on the raids, they seem more content to barter, steal and trade with those they accost on the roads.” The hunter began.

      “This divide appears to be centered on two individuals in the village. A young female and the apparent patriarch of the village. This young female appears to be very popular in the settlement, garnered quite the following from the raiders and bystanders alike. I’m assuming she is a priestess, as she conducts various rituals in the name of Bhal.”

      “They are followers of The Conqueror? This is not news I wanted to hear… Though it somehow doesn’t much surprise me. Blood thirsty little monsters.” Michéle grumbled again, thinking back to that trio goblins he had the opportunity to stop on the road. He was feeling generous that day and let them go with a warning, he wondered if this was part of that same group now.

      “That is where I am going to caution you against. That same divide seems centered around that worship.” The hunter started, scratching idly at his chin. His milky eyes piercing the Chancellor’s demeanor 

      Michéle cut him off, “How are you able to understand them? They speak that incomprehensible tongue, sounds like a cloud of squabbling birds.”

      “Are you going to let me finish?” He folded his arms and waited while the Chancellor sat with an angry look. “Us hunters were trained to hunt. We were taught many things, ancient and new. Their language appears to be based on the old Fae language.” Raising a hand as the Chancellor opened his mouth. 

      “I’ve met one of the Fae, they do actually speak like that to a degree. I walked in on a private conversation this one was having with some shadowed woman. The woman instantly disappeared, and the Fae turned to me speaking perfectly in common. Mimicking my accent and all. This is the part I’m going to tell you about that I don’t think you’re going to be particularly interested in, I’m going to be following up with this, with my Guildmaster. I want to know why some low profile clan of goblins speaks the Fae dialect.”

      With a wave of his hand, the hunter indicated for the Chancellor to ask any questions he might have. Michéle only kept his mouth shut. “Very well, the other intel I was able to gather. There are two priestesses in the village, one old and this young female. Presumably being taught what she needs to know. The problem I see is that the patriarch of the troupe is agitating the rest of them.”

      “The argument I witnessed between the young female and the patriarch opened my eyes a bit to their capabilities. The young female used a form of magic I had never seen before, her voice held its power, able to do as she commanded it.”

      “Do you think that it has any significance?” Michéle quired, peering at the old hunter from the tops of his eyes.

      “It’s unique, something else I’ll have to follow up on. Besides, their species seems to be able to do much the same thing only at a less effective rate.” This caught Michéle’s attention. Sitting back in his chair, he offered the hunter a drink.

      The hunter slowly shook his head, a cautious eye on the glass. He continued, “The aspect I think you will want to consider from here on out, is that there is a human smith in their territory. He seems perfectly happy teaching them, trading with them. I’ve listened in on a few of the conversations, these ‘little monsters’ as you put it, are far less of a threat than you think they are. The young female and her followers are bent on farming, learning trades, and generally trying to stay out of your ire.” 

      “A human set up home there?” The Chancellor asked, skepticism steeped into his words. 

      “Zybtine Artificer, named Caleb. Former worshiper of Bhal, turned ardent follower of Azu.” The hunter shrugged his shoulders. Getting up, his heavy boots never even making a noise, “I have a few more errands to run.”

      “I haven’t finished with you.” Michéle warned.

      “Oh yes you have, if you want more information. Come find me.” He turned back to the Captain of the Guard, “I’ll give you a piece of advice. Set your hatred for them aside, it’ll only benefit you and the King in the end. Bis später, Schwanz.”

      Annoyed, Michéle mulled over the information. If he could get this new guard in the goblin ranks to take over. Well, he could let his distaste for them go. So long as they stayed in their little corner of the forest along those bluffs. He got up and grabbed his heavy gambison. 

      His metal clad boots thudded heavily as he made his way down the Palace hall. He had a meeting with Lucas to get to, he wanted to discuss this arranged meeting with the Wayfarers again. As far as he knew, the Guild never responded. At least this is what Michéle understood, sometimes Lucas kept his cards close to his chest.

      He was an odd man to the Chancellor, though he understood his thought process the majority of the time. Sometimes perfectly transparent with his political moves, sometimes never telling anyone anything until what he planned happened. He opened the door to Lucas’s study.

      He paused in the doorway as he registered that there was someone else already in the room. One of the Wayfarers was sitting in the chair in front of the desk, he recognised the fresh faced young man. “Enlightened Jamie, pleasure to see you here.” Michéle bowed to the high ranking Wayfarer. 

      “Pleasure as well, Chancellor.” The Enlightened responded with a respectful nod. 

      “I am, uh, surprised to see you here. I had assumed the Guild would send their God’s Eye. Not to say that you of such a noble standing are not an unwelcome substitution.” Michéle quickly amended. 

      A woman’s soft giggle echoed down from the vaulted ceiling of the study. Lucas and Michéle jumped, startled at the noise. Jamie only smiled with a sympathetic look that just screamed. “I apologize.”

      “I have been here far longer than my dear Jamie. Amusing myself as the Baron fussed over some documents pertaining to his plans for war with the Caliphate.” The woman was sitting cross legged, upside down from the ceiling. Her long green hair coiled down from her head. Her eyes the same color, glowed in the gloom of the shadows. 

      “I would expect next time, regardless of who you are and your rank in your organization, that you announce yourself before spying on matters of the state.” The Baron grumbled as he folded every last piece of paper on his desk and put them away. Locking the desktop with an odd metal key.

      “My sincerest apologies, Your Graciousness.” she purred as she gracefully righted her position midair, floating lazily down to their eye level. Still sitting with her legs crossed as if she was settled into a comfortable chair. “I was dreadfully curious about what you actually do in the city.” 

      “How did you do that? What is this, you are the God’s Eye we are supposed to meet?” Michéle commented, somewhat disbelieving.

      She only glanced at him, Jamie speaking up. “Your Excellency, back to business.”

      “Yes, well. I have asked her to be here for something to be discussed later. Only if you, Odeza, would be willing to help us with a military experiment.” Lucas began.

      Her soft, melodic voice belied the force behind her words. “If you wish to seek my help, with anything. You are going to need to be perfectly transparent, I will not tolerate any lies, even by omission. Trust me,” A small snap and she was gone, whispering directly into Lucas's ear. “This little experiment will not happen.”

      Another small snap and she was back to her original position, at the front of the desk. A strange look on her face. “That is to say, as long as your experiment interests me, and my superior.”

      Michéle and Lucas sat open mouthed. The speed at which she teleported, the ease at which she controlled the situation, a mere fraction of a second. Lucas shook his head, trying to look regal again. The Chancellor tried to speak, but the God’s Eye cut him off. 

      “I only want transparency. If you want me to develop a communications network for you, then ask. Please do not try to bog this down with bureaucracy and later discussions.” She had correctly guessed what they wanted. 

      The Baron looked over to Jamie, who had his hands in the air. “We didn’t tell you what we wanted in any of the correspondence with the Guild. So how on the Great Tree’s great boughs did you know that?” Lucas said, a calm fury in the room now.

      She only smiled sweetly, as her eyes flashed. “I apologize Gentlemen, Odeza, is. Well, she is quite the unique individual. As for her request, as the Guild’s representative. If she is requesting it, I will have to insist that her requirements are met.” Jamie added for her, his blunt formal tone clearly indicating that this would go nowhere otherwise. 

      With a sigh that suffered a thousand lives, Lucas agreed. He began filling the two Guild Members in on the situation in the east. He went on to explain that the security of Galus was his first responsibility. How that a dedicated communications network that functioned only for troops and generals would be the edge in any coming war. He wanted the Caliphate to suffer as few losses, should that happen, he didn’t want a bloodbath.

      He wanted to be able to use smaller forces, real time reconnaissance, strike targets with much more efficiency. Down targets that disrupted any supply lines. “You want to leave the sands of Zybtine the color they were born in. You want to supply General Lafayette and Michéle With the first connections as a test between Port De Renard and Glaion.” Lucas stared at her, confused as to how she knew that. “I am correct aren't I?” She girlishly added. 

      His annoyance at the third time she predicted what the Baron was going to say, Michéle spoke a razors edge to his voice. “And just WHAT are you exactly? You sit here telling the future, knowing top secret information, and you just FLOAT here without a hint of magic coming from you!” 

      Jamie spoke up, a tinge of anger to his voice as well. “That isn’t relevant to this discussion.” Odeza smiled sweetly, as a brief flash of light illuminated a pair of bright multicolored wings, gone a split second later. Jamie shook his head. “Must you really? You’re the one who.”

      “So you are one of the Fae? Is that why you don’t appear in public much?” Michéle asked, crossing his arms. 

      “No.” She stated without elaborating. 

      “So you’re a Mistwalker. One of those creatures from the Valley of Fog?” He pressed. Lucas trying to hush Michéle with a withering glare. 

      “I am not one of the Shadow cursed tribe, nor am I a Shadow bourne soul like you.” She said cryptically. Though she spoke in a different language, something clicked in the Chancellor’s mind. They understood her perfectly, as she sat there flicking her eyes to each of them. 

      Michéle opened his mouth to continue, being interrupted by Jamie. “Perhaps, we shouldn’t even be hinting at things that ought not be spoken of outside of the sanctuary. Perhaps Miss Odeza, we shouldn’t hint at dark things that have been… we will discuss this later God’s Eye.” Jamie finished with his own furious glare. 

      The pair of men thought they could have sworn both of them disappeared for a moment, a fraction of a fraction of a second. A trick of the light, a breeze had wafted in from somewhere, flickering the gas light fixtures that hung to the walls. The Enlightened only looked justified more than before. 

      She laughed cutely, easing the pair of men in a way they weren’t fully conscious of. “I will help you build this network. I am interested to see if it is possible to sustain such an ephemeral connection.”

      There was a commotion outside the door, the Guard’s armor jangling as they were apparently being pushed along the smooth marble floors of the Palace. The door opened without preamble, King Gjorn and King Halgier walked through unceremoniously. 

      Gjorn stopped suddenly upon seeing the two Guild Members, forcing Halgier to bow deeply with him, with a smack to the back of his head. “The Queen sends her regards, Warmth Odeza.” 

      Halgier turned to him, his question plain as day on his face. Puzzled and lost as to the oddities of his friend. Odeza floated over to Gjorn, her smile touching her eyes. Reaching down she hugged him, “Thank you, it has been a long time since i’ve seen you last, Bluejay.”

      “Are there any more surprises we need to know about? How do you two know each other?” Lucas said, running his hand down his face. “Guard close the damned door!” He barked. 

      The door swung shut behind them, with a soft click. The sound of a bar sliding into place from somewhere inside of it. Halgier turned to the Baron, squaring his shoulders. Putting his hands on his hips he walked up to the desk, despite his short stature, he still struck an imposing figure. HIs scaled armor shined and reflected the light like a kaleidoscope, his heavy ax hanging off his back. “Has the temporary treaty with the Gnomes been signed yet? We have business need being done in the city.” He said with a confidence well earned. 

      Reaching behind him, Lucas pulled an intricately carved scroll box from the shelf. “You really aren’t going to tolerate ceremony are you, Warlord.” It wasn’t a question, he knew full well that when Halgier was anywhere near the city, there was no waiting for long. “Yes, fine. Here.” Lucas said, leaning his head in his hand. 

      “Enlightened Jamie, God’s Eye. I thank you for your time, and your cooperation in future plans. You may leave, please feel free to make any requests from the Quartermasters and the Staff should it please you.”

      Jamie rose and bowed to the group of Monarchs. Teleporting away, without so much as a movement. Apparently silencing the room from magic wasn’t enough to keep that from happening. Lucas made a note to see about how to stop that in the future. Odeza had simply floated back to the top of the room again, watching like a bizarre version of a spider on the wall. Her slightly illuminated eyes unblinking. 

      Annoyed at the fact that he couldn’t actually make her leave, not physically at least. He turned his attention back to the Dwarves. “Yes, here is the treaty. The Gnomes will not instigate any hostilities with your Clan while inside Glaion’s territory. Per the treaty any transgression will be handled between the Dwarves and the Gnomes as how they see fit. We will only intervene if your ‘discussions’ cross the Pomerium.”

      The grin split Halgier’s face. They turned to leave, The Warlord started addressing the Bluejay, Lucas cutting through their conversation. “Your Excellencies, I do have some more business to discuss. An opportunity I am sure would be beneficial to your Clan.”

***

Year of Wrath 1231, Season of Heat, D.48, Ahmir

       The ship lurched as the steam paddles engaged with the engine in the bowels of the vessel. Ahmir and his chosen Delegates spent the majority of the previous few days discussing the various policies and demands they would make in Glaion. 

      They would present their gifts to the King Of Galus, ornate chests filled with luxurious silks and linens. Exotic spices harvested from the southern shores along the conflict zone. They knew Lucas would not have any particular interest in anything that wasn’t going to benefit his Vineyard. They were hoping to wow the Court with their gifts. 

      They had hoped that displaying their resources and textile industry would dissuade, at least Galus, from future discussion of the outpost's claim to become part of Zybtine. They were hoping that Galus would be more interested in opening more trade between their nations rather than their interest in Huron defending a single settlement. 

      Ahmir had planned ahead with the Delegation that after their stop in Glaion, that they would continue to Huron to try and take the outpost through diplomacy. Ahmir surmised that because the Huronian’s were still in the effects of a depression from the last war with the Caliphate, they might just be able to purchase the territory from them. 

      He wanted to avoid a war with the Federation, he knew his own son would be on the front lines. General Ashan would be forced to the front by the Sultan, Ahmir knew that he would try to do so that Ahmir would stay in line. He dreamed of a higher position in the government, though this would be to install a true democracy in leu of the Sultan sitting at the pinnacle of all law.

      Ahmir sighed deeply as he watched the ship pull away from the harbor. Thinking back to when he was a younger man, more optimistic. He thought back to how he could have taken charge of the rebellion that the Federation propped up, instead of Binal-hal. How he would have made this great nation a more prosperous place. With as little chance of war as possible, the Sultan was all too comfortable trying to maintain tenuous treaties with the Federation. 

      The frozen wastes to the north, the constant border disputes as the Dwarves wandered the continent. This outpost, Ahmir thought about how much of a diplomatic mess it had all become. He wanted to try and remedy that on this mission, at least try to get what was best for his people, without having to spill even a drop of blood. He had seen too much death in his life, he was tired of it.

      The Delegation continued the discussion and planning below the ship in an armored room, sound proofed with the rune structure bought from that Gnome in Galus. A perfect place to discuss sensitive information, but it got stuffy quickly. Ahmir preferred to lean on the railings topside, enjoying the sound of the waves under the noise of the paddles as they propelled the ship away from home. 

      The wind caught his hair, whirling it about. He paid no mind to it, he would miss his wife, his son. A sailor walked up to him, leaning against the railing himself. “Saw what you did dockside.” 

      “Going to have to be more specific, friend.” Ahmir answered, never taking his eyes off the shores of The Song of Bhal.

      “I just wanted to say, it’s good to see that there are still a few good men left in the world. I saw you give that cripple boy those coins. Should have seen him hobble back to a group of urchins behind the next ally.” The sailor said. 

      “There were more? Should have said something, I would have given more.” Ahmir answered absently. 

      “I don’t think it would have made a difference, given them too much, the bigger healthy kids would have taken it from them. You fed them for a month.” He handed Ahmir a bottle, inviting him to drink with him. 

      “I would have given them a home, if I wasn’t heading away from the place I wish to be so badly.” he told the sailor, taking the bottle. “What’s your name, friend?”

      The two talked for a while, talking of simpler things. Their children back home, the wives left on the shore. They talked about fishing along the coast, how they could catch big groupers along the reefs next to the piers. Eventually the Captain came about, joining in on their conversation. 

      The topics shifted to how Ahmir was a high ranking member of the Government. The Captain was sympathetic to his desire for a democracy in Zybtine, told him he’d have his vote if it ever came to pass. “Never have I ever met a Military man like you who could speak to us common folks.” The Captain spoke with the accent of southern Galus. 

      “I just talk to people, Captain. In the end that's all we really are. Titles and power mean nothing if you don’t remember where you come from.” Ahmir said with a wave back to the shoreline, now just a distant line on the horizon. 

***

“Why did you make that comment, to display your wings?”

“I’m sorry, it’s just…”

“I don’t care, you are meant to stay hidden from the Shadows, not flaunt that you are there. Short-sighted child.”

“I am sorry Mother.”

“Truly are a child of Syn. Bullheaded and you take any risk. It’s for your safety, Odeza. You were told what they do, the history of that world. You will not do something so reckless again, Child.”