He’s suddenly so nervous. What does it matter if we’re from Caspia?
“It’s been quite some time, three decades perhaps, since we’ve received a Caspian envoy. I hope your Mistress is well; her words still carry weight in even the far corners.”
Wait—he thinks we’re an envoy—whatever that is.
“I hate to pry, and please, feel free to tell me to mind my business, but I simply must ask if your Mistress intends on visiting in person?”
Letty opened her mouth, but Quill was the first to reply. “That is a forward question, Phineas, and you esteem us too highly. She does not make us privy to more than she means to.”
Phineas tilted his head in earnest thought.
“I’m not a diplomat, so please excuse my poor conduct. I’m only a simple arguer; I speak for the common man, and am not versed in the courtesies of statecraft. The Exegesuit emissary, a fine ychorite named Silius, will arrive any moment and greet you properly.”
“Don’t worry, Phineas, we are pleased to be in your city, the only other free place in our corner of the Netherscape,” Staza said.
Phineas smiled and took a nervous sip from his teacup.
He’s afraid that Pythia is following along after us. I wonder why that should frighten him.
“Could you answer a few questions for us, Phineas, before our host arrives? You seem a forthright person,” Quill said.
Phineas gave a quick nod and coughed as he put down his cup.
“We need the services of a portal master. How might we find those?” Quill asked.
Phineas leaned back in his chair. “Well, not a tall order is it?” he laughed nervously. “There is only one permit to create portals still outstanding in the city. It is held by the mer of the Sink. Their part of the city is rather damaged, and dangerous to navigate, even for veterans. Silius might be persuaded to arrange an escort for you, but word has it that there is a high cost associated with portal travel. If you need the portal to return to Caspia, we might be able to arrange another mode of travel. The Exegesuits stable a small fleet of ravagers, or perhaps a cutter can be hired.” Phineas looked like he might continue rambling, but a noise at the door put a stop to it.
A brutox clad in heavy robes appeared and clicked twice.
“Ah, you’re wanted,” Phineas said, standing. “Oh, you should put on your state attire first, traveling clothes would go amiss, and those robes are—dated.”
They were directed to changing rooms and told that they would be received on the steps of the great Secular before a large crowd.
“Letty! What do I wear?” Emma asked from another stall.
“Something nice! I have one dress, but no heels.”
“All I have is a few of your skirts and jeans!”
“Make do Emma, they won’t understand our clothes anyway.”
Letty straightened her dress and gave her hair a good brushing.
This is ridiculous.
She met Emma and Staza, outside her stall. Emma fretted in Letty’s skirt and long-sleeved sweater, while Staza looked pleased to be back in her Caspian outfit, which was more like armor than clothing.
Quill appeared in the door to the hall.
“Emma,” he said.
Emma turned, surprised and approached.
“It’s Dean—he wants to talk to you,” Quill said.
Emma nodded and left without a word. Letty and Staza followed her to the hall.
“You can’t go in there,” Staza said, noting the other changing rooms weren’t for women.
Emma scoffed and entered anyway.
“What’s wrong with him?” Staza asked Quill.
Quill shrugged and the two stared at Letty, who edged closer to the door, until she heard the soft tones of Dean and Emma on the other side.
“—I’ll just mess it up for all of us,” Dean whispered.
“You’re doing great—everyone thinks so—”
“No—she still thinks I’m useless.”
Letty stared down at the tiled floor, knowing she had caused this.
“You saved us, Dean—you fought the ryle, and you negotiated with the Elazene—” Dean tried to interrupt, “—no, listen; I know you’ll do even more for us here. Now take my hand and come on.”
Letty heard them approach and quickly backed away from the door, ashamed that she had been listening in.
Dean and Emma appeared, and Letty noticed their hands separate at the scrutiny of the others.
“I—I couldn’t decide what to wear—and you know Emma is good about fashion advice,” Dean said, his voice softening to a pathetic whisper as he finished.
Dean wore slacks and a navy button down, borrowed from Quill’s pack, by way of Letty’s father. Quill, however, was Staza’s match in his own Caspian armor.
Feeling guilty and awkward, Letty determined to treat Dean with more respect. The Caspians were silent, and Letty couldn’t think of anything appropriate to say. Though she wanted to put Dean at ease, she knew saying something now would only humiliate him.
They left the hall and followed the brutox, a lavender beetle, whose chitin gleamed green and red hues under the vinlight.
Letty checked on the Argument in her pocket
Luckily, they didn’t search our bags too thoroughly.
They were accompanied by a dazzling honor guard of a few dozen sergeants, shining in their armor, bearing banners, impossibly tall swords, and even muskets.
“So much for sneaking in,” Letty muttered to Quill.
“I know—I just panicked!” Quill replied.
“I’m not sure that this is a bad thing,” Dean leaned in, almost eager to be of use, and whispered. “Nobody knows who we really are, and they are taking the envoy from Caspia story seriously.”
“What if we’re found out?” Emma asked.
Before they could continue worrying, the guardsmen started marching.
A human in robes marched up alongside them and presented Staza with a pole bearing a banner. The banner was topaz, and featured a slitted reptilian eye. “Would you care to bare your people’s standard?”
“Of course,” Staza said, taking the pole. She looked up at it. “It’s not a bad copy.”
They left the cloister of administrative buildings and entered the streets of the city. People booed and cheered. Debaters on the stages praised and denounced Caspia, and before long, there was a lengthy procession following along, or rushing ahead to the great Secular.
Quill and Staza stood taller and marched in time with the guardsmen. Even Emma and Dean were infected with excitement from the impromptu parade.
There is something about this place. I can’t explain it. It almost reminds me of the Caspians; it’s fiery and loud.
“Look!” Emma pointed at a dome which stood above the other buildings.
They rounded a corner and saw the rows of buildings give way to a massive plaza laid before wide and gentle steps which led to an equally wide and squat cathedral, the Secular.
Banners of many colors featured a human figure composed of orbs and lines. An orb sat at the head, heart, both hands, and both feet, the lines connecting every orb were also prominent. The figure held its right hand aloft, as if holding a sword, though its sword was in a scabbard at the waist.
Crowds had filled the plaza in anticipation, and they parted as the armed procession pushed through.
An ychorite in simple white robes stood near a podium watching them arrive. To his left stood five banners bearing the form and the orbs.
The guards marched them up the gentle stairs towards the right-hand side of the podium, where a flag stand stood waiting. Staza was directed to place her banner there. She did, to the sound of a cheering crowd.
The ychorite, whose feathers were powder blue, raised his hands for silence. “Degoskirke! The Archatians aren’t the only ones who can bring a crowd! Give me diplomacy any day! Any day would be fine! Even once a year, please!”
The crowd enjoyed that, and Letty heard the guards chuckling.<
br />
I guess they don’t get many diplomatic guests.
“We are pleased to host five disciples of the mighty Pythia, here from the fair city of Caspia!”
The crowd cheered again, and Quill and Staza took to waving, Emma followed suit, but Letty and Dean remained aloof.
“I suspect the finest tailors will want to get a look at their wardrobe; I am told that it is extensive and exotic, with a great number of novel contrivances. Sadly though, we varied Exegesuits have our own strict uniforms. As much as I would love to get ahead of the fashions, it is white robes and lonely days for me, your sole, under-appreciated diplomat.”
The response to that was varied. Some people laughed, but Letty also heard remorseful compliments. “Oh shut up, everyone loves you, Silius!” “Be grateful you’re useful today!”
Silius raised a hand. “Indeed, and I am enjoying being useful a little too much. I can already sense the glowers coming off my peers, so, without further enjoyment of my civic service, I must call! Mind, Heart, Blood, Hands, and Feet, come forward. Most gratefully, the Sheathed Blade, may remain absent!”
As he finished, figures emerged from the crowds. The guards parted and let them through. Each approached and stood by their banner.
From the left, the first person was actually a mouse, but one of massive proportions, at least for a mouse. His fur was moss green on his left side, and rich red gold on the right. He wore a cream suit almost of a military cut, which was also well tailored for his proportions. He held himself with surprising grace and dignity, despite his appearance.
He must be three feet tall. How is that possible?
“Ventalus, foremost member of the Mind, we thank you for your presence.” Silius said to the mouse, and then to the Caspians. “Ventalus, also known as the farspeaker, high orderer, and commander of the Sheathed Blade.”
The guards gently, but brusquely, tapped their weapons on the ground.
Ventalus inclined his head at the gesture.
“I’m sure he’ll have many questions for you,” Silius said.
The second representative was hunched and covered in filthy, threadbare rags, their face obscured by a hood.
“As always, a faceless representative speaks for the order of the Heart,” Silius said.
The hunched figure made no motion to recognize the announcement.
The third representative, a stalwart ychorite draped in fine black and red robes.
He’s just like the ones at the city gates, only his clothes are much finer.
“Vegus, high priest of Blood, we thank you for joining us. Sadly, our guests do not arrive at the head of a mile-long caravan, but I’m sure you will find commercial news hiding somewhere in their minds.”
Vegus scowled at Silius’s forward comment.
“I’m just as pleased to see foreigners as any Degoskan. This might be a preamble to stronger relations; don’t foul the waters, Silius,” Vegus said lightheartedly, his voice surprisingly deep.
Some in the audience smiled and laughed, though the last two representatives were not as popular as Silius and Ventalus.
The fourth representative was a human female. She had an appraising eye, and wore the clothes of a fine craftsman. Her blue and white striped tunic was covered in pockets filled with countless precision tools.
“Belmani, one of only three high-artificers, is here today to speak for the Hands. I am certain that she is grateful to not be wearing her robes of state.”
Belmani ignored that and addressed Letty and her friends. “Caspians! I have read and heard accounts of the marvelous works of engineering and architecture in your young city. I hope to entice you to come to our temple and sit with our initiates and draftsmen and tell us of your home. We will gladly show you anything you might like to see in return.”
“Now, now, Belmani, everyone will get time with them,” Silius responded with a chuckle.
Belmani didn’t spare him a glance.
This might not be the best idea. It sounds like they’ll be keeping an eye on us and wasting our time with events like this. We aren’t here to make friends; we have a job to do.
As this realization dawned, Letty struggled to keep the scowl off her face. Dean saw this.
“I’m certain that we can learn more this way, don’t be upset,” Dean whispered to her.
The final representative was actually two people. A goblin on stilts stood near a bulky brutox, with the many eyes of a spider, and the massive and segmented body that might have once been a tarantula. Long, sharp looking hairs, that were more like blades, lay flat in fields along his crossed arms. He looked absurd in a simple robe, colored purple at the feet, and lightened into a blazing orange at the head and throat.
“I don’t know if I should laugh or scream,” Emma whispered.
“They don’t make a broom big enough,” Dean replied, shaking his head in disbelief.
“Oort, and his translator, join us from the esteemed faction of the Feet.” Silius expertly took in a breath to cover a slight chuckle.
Others in the audience weren’t so polite, but a glance from Oort, and the sound of his considerable muscles tensing was enough to preemptively silence any heckling.
Oort leaned in to his goblin and clicked a quick string of unintelligible sounds.
“Oort would like to extendy warm and filial greetings from the many such farmers, herds-people, and fisher-folk, of this, our finest city in the land.”
Oort nodded at the goblin’s message.
“There it is! The five factions of the Anteschismarian Order of Exegesuits have extended sincere greetings from our city of Degoskirke.”
The audience cheered, but was then waved to silence by Silius, who gestured to the guests and spoke, “Would one of you please say a few words, and deliver your message? We are eager to hear.”
Everyone looked to Letty.
“What the hell are you looking at me for? Quill, you get out there. Everyone knows you’re the better speaker—but don’t make any stupid promises!” Letty whispered angrily.
Quill coughed and played with the collar on his armored shirt. He looked pale.
“You’ve had large audiences before,” Staza said, giving him a nudge.
Quill stepped forward and raised a hand to calm the confused grumbles from the audience.
“High Exegesuits and welcoming citizens of the free city, please excuse our hesitation. We did not come prepared for such a grand welcome! The words in my heart fall far short in their effort to thank you for this graciousness.”
Letty relaxed and was grateful that she had ordered Quill to speak. His calm manner and careful words quickly won over the audience, though the high Exegesuits were all as attentive and cautious as they been at first.
“We come from a small city nestled against another shore, and have traveled across lands hostile to us all, sometimes in hiding, but always afraid. Today, when we passed through your gates, we let our sword arms rest,” Quill finished, eying the banner and its Sheathed Blade.
“May they remain so,” Silius added, solemnly.
The crowd murmured its agreement.
“We’ve come to you with no great proclamation, but only with an open palm and the fair hope that this meeting might spur friendship and cooperation between our two cities, who, though far apart, are filial in spirit, and are beset by the same plagues and foes.”
A few of the Exegesuits whispered to one another.
Vegus, the robed ychorite, stepped forward. “Fair words, young Caspian. I hear the echo of your Mistress, so blessed in magnetism, surrounding us today. Do I also sense her expedient thrift in the face of largess?”
Quill narrowed a brow.
The mouse, Ventalus, raised a hand. “Please, forgive my cutting to the meat of the issue, where my compatriot is so careful. What he wants to know is what gifts have you brought to exemplify this future friendship you so nobly aspire to?”
“Ah,” Quill replied, looking down for a moment.
There was
a grumble stirring in the crowd.
“Indeed, where abundance meets thrift there may be misunderstanding. Please, see us not as empty handed; our gifts were carefully chosen and are subtler than gaudy silks which would only slander friendship and exemplify bribery.”
The grumble changed pitch and sharpened into an almost guilty denial coming from a thousand throats.
Quill approved of this response. “Instead, each one of us bears our gifts, inside, where, through the success or failure of our meetings they might blossom into wealth and knowledge, however they be taken.” Quill gestured to Staza, “Staza, swift, and sure, is champion in Caspia, and will share her skills with any who might be her peer, I hope at least one such person lives in Degoskirke.”
Staza liked what she heard and stood a little taller before casting a haughty and superior expression across the audience. Loud exhortations came up from bellowing warriors. Silius laughed, and even Ventalus seemed impressed.
“Dean, my new brother, is possessed of transcendent wit and tact, the likes of which have not been seen for centuries—”
Dean took Quill by the shoulder and whispered, “Are you trying to get me killed?”
Quill laughed it off. “See how eager he is!”
Some of the audience cheered, while others echoed the exhortations of the warriors.
“Emma, our youngest sister, is blessed with a sense for the finer things. She will keep your socialites on their toes and the dressmakers busy around the clock.”
Letty saw Emma turn bright red. “I’m not a fashion designer!” she whispered angrily.
Quill was paying attention, though. He remembers them asking about our clothes, Emma is the best person for that job.
“Our leader, Letty, has visited the surface—” Quill paused as the murmurs turned into a roar.
Silius raised his hands to the audience, and spoke over them, “Truly? She has been to the surface?”
Quill nodded, before continuing, “She has, and will make herself available to the archivists and historians.”
The Immortal of Degoskirke Page 8
