by Auryn Hadley
"Yeah," Laern said, "But if they're here to see Anglia, then we need to make sure you're represented. I'd just need two flags. Trust me, Ahnor. This is what I do."
"Ok," Jase sighed. "Ya get it dressed up in there. I'll get ya some flags or banners."
Laern turned and began yelling in Iliran, his accent thick. Jase tried to think of who wouldn't be busy at the moment. Arctic? he asked.
Yeah, brother?
Can ya find me two Anglian flags or banners? We have conglomerate soldiers riding in. Innkeeper said he needs ‘em ta make a proper presentation fer our leaders. Also, this place serves the best maerte. Ya need ta make sure the men all eat.
Yes, shit, and will do, Arctic sent back, amusement tinting his mental voice. Shade's with me. Have enough time for me to walk her over from Tilso?
Of course. She get her horse?
Yeah, Arctic beamed. Tilso found her a flaxen chestnut mare from the cavalry we hit. Said she's a bit slow in the higher level moves but will improve before Shade's ready. She wants to be a Blade, man.
Yeh. Sal's good. They already talked about tattoos. Let me check with LT, and if he's good, we'll make a deal of it t'night?
Thanks, Arctic said. There's a nice little shop in town. I'll run over later and see if they can make us all a few more sets of blacks.
Flags first, Jase reminded him.
Already got ‘em, brother. Be there in five.
Jase sank into a chair. A year ago, he would have preferred to stay in the shadows. Now, he was one of the top officers of the entire country. Different country, but a better one. In five minutes, just as he'd said, Arctic pushed through the door, pausing for his eyes to adjust. Large swaths of deep green cloth lay over his arms, silver tassels only slightly muddy.
"Best I can do," Arctic said, seeing him.
"Nice. The gate flags. Ok, let's take these to Laern," Jase said leading the way to the back.
They walked down a narrow hall and glanced in the rooms as they passed. A washroom, a wine closet, a few small private rooms, and at the end of the hall, a large reception area was visible through the open door. Jase recognized Laern's daughter, but he hadn't seen the other women before. When he stepped through the doorway, they all turned, eyes wide.
"Anglians," Laern said, inhaling. "And iliri. Ah, you have..." he held out his hands for the banners and Arctic passed them across with a slightly confused look on his face. "Nice. I'll have these washed later, but they'll do for now. Sarsa, Lamae, Janyl. I need one of these on each side. Line the chairs."
"Impressive," Arctic said looking around.
A large table had been moved to the end of the room, directly across from the door. Unavi banners and flags decorated the walls, and the table had been covered in a jade, a wine, a forest green, and a white cloth, all laid at angles to show the variation in colors. A woman was setting out bottles of mead and fine crystal glasses before three seats.
"Have you met the grauori, yet?" Arctic asked, looking at the setup.
"No, sir. I've only seen them in passing," Laern admitted.
Arctic nodded. "They don't do chairs well. Their joints are just a bit different. Usually, they squat or recline on a hip."
"Maast," Laern said looking at the table, thinking.
"Rragri seemed to appreciate a reclining couch in Myrosica," Jase offered.
Laern's face lit up and he yelled at the women again. Two rushed from the room. "That I can do. Going to need to raise it. Will the height be a problem?"
"Nah," Arctic reassured him. "Grauori jump like crazy. She'd hop on that table as easily as we climb up the stairs."
"Perfect. Let me get some blocks then. And more cloth! Can't let them see that we've put the couch on hunks of wood. It'll be perfect, sirs. I promise you that."
Arctic and Jase chuckled at him and left the room, leaving the man in a tizzy. A pale skinned, black haired women looked up from one of the small rooms as they passed. She gestured for them to wait.
"Sirs?" she said politely as she approached them. "I'm Sahni Derus. Laern is my mate."
Arctic nodded and dropped his gaze, gesturing beside him. "Ahnor Jassant Cynortas, and I am Raewar Karim Chalybs. Thank you for the use of your facilities."
She smiled at them and met Jase's eyes. "Ahnor," she said, flicking her gaze to the ground for a moment in a show of respect but not submission. "Raewar. I wanted to be sure to thank you. You have been more than generous with us. Laern is enthusiastic, and the White Stone has always been his pride and joy, but he rarely looks at the books."
"We're thankful for the kindness he's shown us. He's been nothing but respectful. You must be proud," Jase said to her.
Sahni chuckled. "I am and thank you. He also told me that our daughter would be treated with respect. After meeting you both, I feel much more confident about that. I have one question about our arrangement, though?"
Jase nodded at her, encouraging her to ask.
"For the duration of your stay, would you prefer we keep the building private?"
"No," Arctic said. "If you can keep the top floor sectioned off, that would be appreciated, but not required. Feel free to lease any open rooms you have."
"And the general dining hall? You have two of your rulers staying here. Syharan citizens will hope to meet them."
"Leaders," Jase corrected. "They do na rule, they lead. And no. There's na a need to close yer doors. Enjoy the additional customers. We simply need the two private rooms and the beds fer our elites."
Sahni sighed, relaxing. "Thank you! The income we can earn should bring us out of debt. Terric's visit to Syhar nearly bankrupt us."
"Both Sal and Dom love entertainment. Seeing citizens enjoying themselves will make them a lot happier," Arctic told her.
"Then I'll have Laern hire a band. Are there any customs in Anglia I should be aware of?"
"Nah," Jase assured her. "The grauori will want benches or the floor, and bowls instead of delicate cups. If ya have crude mugs, those often serve them well, too."
"And keep a list of any debts owed by Anglians,"Arctic added. "If they do not pay, we will settle for them. Any Anglians."
"Thank you. I'm sorry for keeping you," she said, returning to her small room and closing the door gently behind her.
"I love this place," Arctic sighed.
"Yeh," Jase agreed. "Shit works like ya'd expect it ta. Always confused me when the humans wanted the women ta be passive."
Arctic chuckled. "Explains why you ended up with Sal. You're not as submissive as you used to pretend."
"Fuck no," Jase said, grinning at Arctic. "Just easier ta na say shit. We're rooming Shade beside ya."
"Thanks," Arctic said. "I'm supposed to pick flowers with Tilso, tonight. Fucking CFC ruining my plans."
"Flowers?" Jase asked. "Why?"
"She's only part iliri, Cyno. Tilso swears women like flowers."
"Stupid custom." Jase laughed.
Arctic shrugged it away. "Sometimes I think we got things all backward. Zep and Sal? Me and Shade? Hell, you and Sal are about the only pair that makes sense."
Jase shrugged. "Na really. No one ever expected me ta find a mate. If I did, Taunor at best. Cessivi? Shit, man. If it was na fer the Blades, I'd be a corpse by now."
"Same for Sal, though," Arctic pointed out. "No one expected to find a pure iliri hidden away in Merriton. I mean, Merriton of all places. Then for her to be a soldier and not a seducer?"
"She's both. That's what makes her such a good Kaisae."
"Yeah, but still. Humans should've killed her long before she got conscripted."
Jase just shook his head. "She's too stubborn fer that."
"Nothing but the truth," Arctic agreed. "That's nothing but the truth. Now let's go meet some diplomats."
Outside in the courtyard again, they spotted the King. Four Verdant Shields surrounded him, and he was greeting the iliri citizens politely. As they walked toward him, Dom turned to a pale skin woman, then suddenly stood straighter. They stared a
t each other for a long moment.
"I suggest ya submit," Jase said softly to her as he made his way over. "He is Kaisor, equal ta the Kaisae in rank."
"He is human," she growled, refusing to lower her eyes.
"Yeh. And he lives with iliri. If ya do na submit, I'll make ya," Jase threatened.
"Who are you?" she snarled.
"I am Sal's Ahnor."
Her eyes fell to the ground, "Ahnor."
"And him?" Jase asked.
"Kaisor," she said angrily.
"I'm sorry you feel that way, kaisae," Dom said. "I would like to offer you my laetus regardless."
She looked up at him, shocked. "You'd give me honor and respect?"
"Yes," Dom said. "You are very obviously the kaisae of your family."
"But..." She looked from Dominik to Jase, confused.
"Humans are patriarchal, kaisae," Arctic said from her other side. "They are led by males. He's the Kaisae's equal in their species. That does not mean he is stupid."
"I'm sorry, Kaisor," she said, looking at him again, then dropping her gaze properly this time. "Forgive me. Is it proper to offer you Laetus?"
"No," Dom assured her. "I'm not iliri."
"Then, well met, sir. I just came to ask, um," She looked back to Jase and Arctic, then glanced at the King. "I own one of the taverns in town."
"The menu?" Jase asked.
"Yes, sir. We've been under Terran rule for almost a decade, but there have been rumors."
"She means the meat, Dom," Arctic said.
"Ah," he sighed, suddenly understanding the problem. "Maerte can be listed publicly, kaisae. Jase? Ilija said something about dispersing the bodies?"
"Yeh." Jase told the woman, "The Kaisae has divided the human kills among the citizens of Syhar. We ask that ya clean and prepare yer own carcasses. Preferably out of sight of the humans, as some of them find it disturbing." The woman giggled and nodded, so he continued, "Because the meat is a gift, please make sure ya feed those unable to pay?"
"How much of it is there?"
"At least fifty carcasses per tavern in town."
"Ayati. Yes. With that much, I'd have to before it spoils. Thank you, sir. And... this is truly ok?"
Jase nodded. "We are a kingdom of three people. Two of whom enjoy maerte. We kinda outnumber the humans."
She sighed, a large smile on her face. With that settled, Jase gestured for Dom to follow him.
"Sire? I have a Conglomerate delegation coming in. The White Stone is being prepared fer ya, Sal, and our elites. The owner has been enthusiastic about preparing a reception room. Ya want ta clean up b'fore ya receive them?"
"No," Dom said. "We just fought a damned battle. If they don't like a little blood on my armor, they can ride their asses back. How's Sal?"
"Sleeping."
"Finally," Dom muttered. "Don't wake her. Am I taking this alone or with Rragri?"
"Wif Rragri," the Orassae said, hopping from a passing wagon. "Rai heard rai was needad."
"Have your Vargwar?" Arctic asked.
She shook her head. "Na. Harrgra ga a wund. Raewar? Wahna be vargwar?"
"I'm be honored, Orassae," he said, smiling. "Give your Dernor my sympathy. Oh, and did things work out ok with Nya?"
She dopped her head on her shoulders and huffed. When she looked back at him, her expression was one of exhaustion. If she can prove her worth, I will ignore her mistake and name her gerus. I have a feeling she will get the chance.
Me, too. Dropping not only his eyes but also his head, Arctic stepped back. "Let's get you two settled. They'll be here shortly," he said, gesturing for them to make their way into the large, pale, stone building at the edge of the courtyard. Then, he chuckled, having a thought. "Would it be impolite to serve maerte to Rragri for this meeting?"
"Ya," she agreed, her amusement returning. "Vary. Do eet."
Chapter 13
The Liall Lusarati greeted ten horsemen a kilometer outside Syhar's walls. Surprisingly, the riders halted politely at their presence, easily identified their leader, and saluted her. The twenty-four grauori flanked the Conglomerate riders, and together they rode through the Anglian army, into the city courtyard. The soldiers looked around, pleasant surprise on their face as men in deep green moved to take their horses.
"Welcome to Syhar," an officer greeted the Conglomerate men. "I'm Lieutenant Dalyr Trant, emissary to the Grauori."
"Well met, Lieutenant," the Captain said. "Captain Rais Tolan, 112th Mounted. Obviously of the Conglomerate of Free Citizens."
"Yes, sir," Dalyr said. "We saw you coming a few kilometers back. Any special requirements for your mounts, sir?"
Captain Tolan smiled at the soldier before him and said, "Same as the Black Blades and Devil Dogs. We all learned in the same place."
"The CFC?" Dalyr asked, smiling pleasantly.
"Fuck, no," Tolan said around a laugh. "Those fools would founder a good horse. General Sturmgren is who I meant."
"Yes, sir!" Dalyr agreed, his smile finally reaching his eyes. "If you would follow me, I'll show you to the audience hall. I assume you're here to see the leaders."
"My message is for Sal, actually," Tolan said, then caught himself. "I mean the Kaisae."
"Not gonna happen right now, sir. Dominik and Rragri are available."
Tolan raised an eyebrow at the man. "First name basis?"
Dalyr chuckled and nodded. "Most of us are. They're leaders, not rulers, and they make sure we know it."
"Thanks for the head's up. Any way to get a message to Razor?"
"Yes, sir."
"After I speak with the, uh, leaders, would it be possible to speak with him? I owe him a pretty large thanks."
Dalyr smiled and said nothing for a moment as they walked. With a nod, he spoke again, "Razor said he'll see you after the audience, sir. Said he's glad it's you."
"Fuck," Captain Tolan breathed. "All of you?"
"Pardon?"
"The head thing. All of you do it?"
Dalyr laughed, caught off guard. "Yeah. The link is standard Anglian military protocol. Sal got the last few in back in Myrosica."
"How far does it work?"
Dalyr shook his head. "Not giving away military secrets, sir. Sorry. That we have it is not a secret. How good it is? Yeah. Sign an alliance."
"That's why I'm here, Lieutenant. I requested the mission. Sal took care of me back there, and I owe it to her."
"We all do, sir. She saved my life. She saved most of our lives at least once - her or one of the Blades. Now, here we are." Dalyr led the Captain into the White Stone and to the door of the audience hall. "Don't kneel, but you can bow. Titles are King and Orassae. I think she has Arctic translating for her. Her mate was wounded pretty bad in battle earlier today. Oh, and they aren't too happy with the way the CFC treated Sal."
"Thanks, soldier. Me, either," Tolan whispered. "Would you kindly make sure my men know the local customs? Their last orders were to do nothing and touch no one. Looks like you're a lot more relaxed here than I expected."
"Yes, sir," Dalyr said opening the door and gesturing for the Captain to enter. "Good luck, sir."
Captain Tolan walked forward, noticing the display of Unav's colors in the room. The only symbols of Anglia were a pair of banners carefully placed behind the tall table set at the back of the room. King Dominik Jens and the Orassae Rragri both sat casually, enjoying a meal, but they looked up at the sound of his boots on the floor. At a respectful distance, Captain Tolan stopped and bowed deeply.
"Thank you for seeing me, sire, Orassae," he said.
"Yeah," Dom replied. "What does the CFC want?"
"Sire, the short version? I'm here to beg and grovel for your aid. I'm a soldier, and I don't do politics very well, but if you'd prefer the formal version I can give it a try." Tolan watched the King's reaction.
Dominik smiled, but Arctic spoke up. "Dom, Captain Tolan is with the 112th. He leads the cavalry unit that we met at the Devil Dog's defection."
> "Ah!" Dom relaxed. "Pull up a chair, then. Sal had nice things to say about you."
"Thank you, sire," Tolan said, looking around. Arctic grabbed a pair of chairs and set them across from the King and Orassae at the table. The two men sat side by side.
"Dom?" Arctic asked. "Shall I have Dalyr seat his men in the inn's common room? Blades and Dogs are mingling through there, and I think there's a few friends."
"Yeah," Dom agreed. "And someone warn them about the menu?"
Arctic grinned and nodded.
"I'm assuming you haven't eaten yet." Dom gestured to his plate. "We're just getting to it ourselves. Had to beat down some Terrans this morning. Can I get you something?"
"I'll eat with my men. Thank you, sire."
"It's Dom, or Dominik. She's Rragri. I assume you know Arctic?"
"Yes, sir," Tolan said. "For many years now. If we're on a first-name basis, sire, please call me Rais."
"Ok, Rais. What changed?" Dom asked, getting right to the point.
"A few things. First, Berrik got recalled. Losing the Viraenovan alliance didn't set well with her constituents. Second, Terric breached the eastern border. The Forward Camp, which is basically its own town now, is behind the line. They're almost to Eastward and looks like they're planning a siege."
"Fuck," Arctic said. "So they're over the mountains?"
"We're barely holding them in the western foothills. They hit us hard and fast. The loss of both the Black Blades and the Devil Dogs hurt. You know we've been assigned to a non-combat mission too, right?"
Arctic smiled deviously. "Yes, I do. Glad to see you recognized the dog."
"Scared the shit out of me to see the Devil Dog. When he started speaking?"
Rragri whuffed and gestured. Arctic translated for her, "That was Harrgra, the Vargwar. He speaks the cleanest Glish of all the Grauori. Wanted to make sure you got the message."
"I've been in there. Marnia made sure we all got a tour. We've been very careful about what comes out right now, but I do have a present for Sal." Rais grinned. "She sent something like twenty-five journals and this."
Rais stood and opened a large pouch on his hip, then pulled out a bundle wrapped in blue cloth. "I heard Sal's unavailable. I'm hoping it's nothing serious, but Marnia wanted me to be sure these got to her. She accidentally forgot to list them." He passed the bundle to Arctic.
