A man seated on the other side of the Council stood. He wore flowing robes and a wrap that extended up over his head, making only his face visible. “As you requested, Councilor,” he said with a small bow of his head. “I am here and ready to finalize our agreement.”
Alina leaned forward in the seat. This man seemed much more refined than his other visiting westerners, his accent smoother. Still, something about his presence made her squirm. She tried to ignore the feeling.
The head Councilor unrolled a length of parchment, setting weights down on the edges. “The trade agreement reads as follows…” Alina rolled her eyes. The Council could make the most important of tasks seem tedious. “Whereas Osota shall exchange these grains for the following weapons…”
So it is the metal. She had heard rumors of the troubles miners faced. Many of the expeditions in search of new ore had yielded nothing. While the man droned on about exchange rates and specific clauses, Alina looked around the room. Many of the Councilors stared at the speaker, and those who did not watched the diplomat from Shedol.
Half-listening, she moved her seat back further into the shadows. No one paid attention. Orwall had the responsibility of watching her and he had decided she was too old to need watching. She looked around. Behind her, the floor curved up and away, behind the other Council seats. Alina stood from her chair and slowly lowered herself to behind the pedestals.
“I’m sorry, Councilor, but please hold a moment.” Alina froze. Her heart hammered against her ribs. Nin had warned her against something like this, but she needed more information to act on. “I have to disagree on that last clause listed.”
Chatter broke out amongst the Councilors and Alina exhaled a held breath. As the Councilors argued, she crept along the backside of the room, following the curve of the wall. She reached Gosman’s riser and noticed a pile of papers laid by his chair. He attempted to yell over the other voices. She reached out and withdrew a few pieces of parchment from the stack before ducking underneath the riser. Out of sight, she knelt down and opened the document. As hard as she tried, her breathing sounded loud in her own ears. Every heartbeat resonated like a thunderous clap in her body. She decided she hated stealth.
Only the largest paper held promise, a map of the heartlands. Many of the familiar landmarks and locations were filled in on it, plus a few extra notes Gosman had made. Alina scanned them, finding nothing of interest until she reached the western edge of the map. There, written in small text, inked the words territory camp. She did not know the jargon. She had never seen someone notate this specific way on a map before. It had to be a personal invention of Gosman’s. She stared at the spot on the map, trying to commit it to memory. If Gosman was involved in anything devious, that spot on the map would reveal it, and Alina suspected he might be more heavily involved with the visiting dignitaries than he let on. The marker lay just off the coast, bordering the scrubland and wheat fields. Once she felt she could relocate it on another map, she refolded all the papers and crawled out from under the riser. The Councilors still fought with one another, though the roar had come down to only a few voices. Alina tucked the papers back where she had found them and returned to her seat. Orwall still conversed with the other Councilors.
“I understand that we need basic items for defense,” said Orwall. “However, I will not allow the trade for those items to rob us in the process.”
“This percentage has been negotiated down significantly,” said Gosman. “We will get nowhere if we continue to bicker over small margins.”
“Councilors,” the Shedol diplomat spoke. They quieted. “I can understand hesitation over the proposed agreement. If it will please Councilor Orwall, we are willing to consent to a small reduction in the amount of grain traded for swords.”
No one protested. Alina folded her hands in her lap, watching them think it over.
“That is a generous compromise,” said Councilor Tarish. “We will have to discuss the details once Lord Demek is present.”
The head Councilor spoke again. “If there are no further complaints, we shall move along to the next order of business.” He shuffled through his papers. Alina let her thoughts wander. If she paid attention, she would get angry at the injustice of their tactics and then she would make a scene. She looked across the room to the diplomat from Shedol. He watched the other Councilors, as if there was nothing more fascinating than discussing tax rates.
Alina leaned back in her chair and looked at the floor, frowning. She had not been born with a strong desire to lead. She hated listening to the politicians when she was little, still hated it. She’d rather be direct about a problem, while they always wanted to compromise and weave around sensitive issues. Her father taught her to care though, he had convinced her of the beauty of Osota.
She thought back to the long rides he would take her to the villages and how he would reach out to the commoners on behalf of the crown. Those trips remained precious in her memories. Her and her father would dance with the farmers and sit with them at the feasts rather than at a head table, isolated. He would always lean down to her and say, “These are your people, Alina. One day, you will need to care for them.”
Alina shook her head, blinking away the thought. While the trips had been fun, she always felt an enormous sense of responsibility had been handed down to her. Her father had possessed the common touch. Even more, he had seen the struggles of Osota and had taken actions to remedy them. I try to care for my people, but it is impossible when half the men in this room are so unfamiliar with the real Osota. Alina ground her teeth. She wished Nin could sit with her in this stuffy, unbearable room. Nin would say something witty against the Councilors and the two of them would have a good laugh.
Finally, the session came to an end. Alina’s jaw ached. Still, the meeting had been a success for her. Alina rose with everyone and took Orwall’s offered arm. A kind man, she tolerated him much more than many of the Council members. “Did her Majesty enjoy the session?”
She smiled up at him. “Yes, it was enjoyable to witness diplomacy at work.”
Orwall laughed as he escorted her out of the room. “You are far too kind. There are moments I wish to beat my brow upon a wall rather than argue with them any further.” They paused in the large hallway. “You are lucky. I wish I possessed such patience.” Alina nodded. Nin approached with another guard to escort her back to her chambers. Before he let go, Orwall dipped his head down to her ear and whispered, “Though you would do better to remain in your seat, next time.”
Before she could say anything, he passed her along to Nin, bidding his farewell. Still stunned, she barely managed to turn and say, “Farewell, Councilor Orwall.” Even then, her voice wavered. As they walked away, Nin raised a questioning eyebrow, but Alina shook her head and glanced over at the guard. Nin gave a slight nod.
Once they reached her quarters and excused the guard to the hallway, Nin spoke, “What did Orwall say to you?”
Alina sat down at her dresser, removing the jewelry she had put on for the session. “He informed me to stay seated next time,” she said, trying to sound casual.
“You did not,” Nin said, moving to the side of the dresser. “You were sneaking around in there after I told you to make no such attempt.” Alina opened a drawer and pulled out her own folded and worn map. She shook it out and opened it on the top of the dresser. “Did anyone else see you?” Nin asked.
Alina pulled a quill and ink bottle over, then began scanning the western edge of the map. Her map was slightly larger than Gosman’s, so she moved slightly inland, looking for the landmarks that had framed his own. “I doubt anyone saw,” said Alina. “And even though Orwall saw me, he did not see what I did. It was impossible for him to see me behind Gosman’s riser.”
“Did you take anything from Gosman?” Nin asked.
In the past few days, Alina had insisted Nin drop formalities when they were alone, but the incessant interrogation made her want to order the maid to start referring to her as
‘your Highness.’
“Of course not,” she said. “I am not a complete failure at espionage. I looked at one of his documents, a map.” She gestured to the paper in front of her. “It only had one special marking on it…here.” She circled the rough area where the territory camp had been. “After, I replaced the map and returned to my seat. I swear no one else saw me.”
“It was still an unwise risk,” said Nin, studying the spot on the map. “Territory camp. What is that?”
“It’s what the map said.” Alina put away the quill and ink.
“That...sounds vague and intriguing,” said Nin. She peered over the paper. Alina had told her about the vision of Shedol taking Osotan slaves. While Nin said she had not heard any news of this in the agreements passed around, she had been open to further investigation on her own terms.
“Which is why we need to send someone to check it out,” Alina said. She looked down at the map. “Gosman and the other Councilors are hiding something from me. Even Orwall, though he’s much kinder about it than the others. Whatever it is they are hiding, it must be troublesome at least.” She shifted in her chair to study Nin and clapped her hands together. “So, I want it to appear as though the camp was stumbled upon, and no large forces are to be sent. I think we will do better if a small group discovers it. That way there is no cause for confrontation.”
“And if the group gets captured or overwhelmed?” Nin asked.
“You will have to make sure they have orders not to engage any unknowns,” said Alina. “I fear what may happen if we send guards out there. I cannot think of an excuse that would not cause suspicion. But I do not know anyone else we could send.”
Nin crossed her arms, her brows furrowed. “I do.”
“Who?”
Nin shook her head. “I’d rather you not know. The less you are tied to this, the safer you remain.”
With a sigh, Alina leaned back in her chair. “Very well. Go ahead and have your mystery and intrigue.”
“I will,” said Nin. She picked up the map and folded it into a neat square. “If there is nothing else you require, I have a scheme to set in motion.”
“Off with you,” Alina said, waving her hand.
Nin fetched her cloak and satchel, then tucked the map in a hidden pocket on the inside of her skirts and left. Alina remained at her dresser, staring at the plush carpet. Her heart raced. The plotting, the sneaking, she did it all so easy in the moment. But left alone with her thoughts, she had to wonder if it was acceptable. I gamble with many lives and to what end? The memory of the vision flashed before her: the slaves, ruin, and corruption. Nin had been horrified when she explained the vision. But something more formed a pit of fear inside Alina. Yes, she worked to stop this, but how did she expect to achieve such a goal when every vision she witnessed had come true?
Chapter Six
“WHAT DO YOU HAVE there?” Senri asked, sitting down at the table with Nat and the other Warriors.
Yahn eyed a thick sheaf of papers while he ate the midday meal. “Orders for a field exercise,” he said.
“Involving who?” Senri grabbed some fruit, while Nat took a loaf of bread to eat. Basic training still filled their mornings, while individual practice or mentoring sessions took over their evenings. Senri had yet to make any improvement with Graus over the last few days. She feared Graus’s frustration over her lack of progress.
“That’s the strange thing,” he said. “They’ve picked the four of us to do it.”
Nat looked up from his plate. “Meaning you, me, and the girls?” He nodded towards Senri.
“Yes. I guess Valk must have liked the way we worked together. Figured if me and Lanan are watching you two, everyone will come back alive.”
“From what?” asked Lanan. She sat down by Yahn, running a damp cloth through her soaked hair. She helped redirect a canal early that morning, much to Valk’s displeasure. He tended to grumble whenever a Warrior did something non-combat related. She leaned over and read the paper. “A field exercise with those two? I thought they would assign a mentor for something like that.”
Yahn shrugged. “They have been busier than usual, and we are fairly reliable.”
Nat laughed around his food. “Sure you are. No offense, Yahn. It is more Lanan than you.”
“I resent that statement,” said Lanan. She threw her cloth at Nat, who caught it and slapped it back on the table. Nat lifted his cup to his lips. Lanan laughed. “Perhaps I will make your cup of water attack your throat on the next swallow.”
Nat froze and put the cup down. “You can’t do that.”
Lanan raised a challenging eyebrow.
“Well, what’s the field assignment?” Senri redirected the conversation, setting aside her breakfast for the moment.
“Routine patrol,” said Yahn. “We aren’t even approaching the border or the woods.” He spread a map on the table indicating a western route looping a wide arc. “Perhaps a ten-day’s journey to and back.”
“That’s awful long.” Lanan scanned the route once more.
“It’s a rather out of the way destination,” said Yahn. “It will give us time to reflect and know the land.”
“I can’t wait,” said Senri in relief. “I don’t know how much longer I can stand Graus hanging his head in shame every time I fail to magic the fire away.”
“It’s not magic,” said Nat, eyeing the cup of water and swallowing. “Someone was saying other masters of heat can do it.”
“Am I a master?” asked Senri. “No. “
“Don’t bother worrying about it,” said Yahn. He picked up the map and tucked it back in with the other papers. “Graus expects the best out of everyone.”
“I had no idea,” Senri said, rolling her eyes. “When do we depart?”
“We have leave to do so immediately,” said Yahn. “The supplies and mounts are already prepared for us.”
“That was quick,” said Nat. He finally drank some water. Lanan winked at him from across the table. He put the cup down once again. “I swear, I’ll run dry from fear.”
“Can we leave today then?” Senri asked.
Yahn looked over at Lanan. “Would that work for you?”
Lanan took the papers from him and glanced through them. “I suppose, this seems fairly standard. Sounds like a lovely rest.”
“I’m going to pack my things, then.” Senri rose from the table. “See you all at the stables.”
In truth, Senri could not get away from the training grounds fast enough. She could barely take the pressure Graus put on her. She did not know why he expected so much of her. When she had asked another heat reader what Graus taught him, he had described some sword fighting techniques Graus had skimmed over with her. Senri had been too scared to ask any other readers of their progress.
In her room, she packed what remained of her mother’s spices and extra clothes. Supplies had been set aside for them. She already wore her armor and sword, but before she left, she grabbed a hunting bow and arrows. They would need to replenish meat. She walked down the corridor, lost in thought, and nearly ran into Lanan.
The older woman grabbed her shoulder. “Woah, slow down.”
“Sorry.” Senri tried to move past, but Lanan kept her still.
“Why are you in such a rush to leave?”
Senri looked down. “I just need to get out, you know? Move around.” She shrugged her shoulder in an attempt to dislodge Lanan’s hand. She wanted to be left alone.
Lanan let go, but didn’t go to her room. “I’m here, you know, if you want to talk or anything.”
Senri’s cheeks felt hot. She blinked, trying to will away the blush. “I’m going to get my horse ready.” Did they all think she was some fragile child that needed watching? She retreated to the outer courtyard, walking down to the stables. The midday sun beat down on her.
Just as the note had said, four horses had been prepared for them at the stables. Senri found Stomps saddled, laden with supplies, and ready with the others. Sh
e smiled, grateful Valk had remembered her companion. The horse tossed his mane, and Senri patted his snout. “I’ve missed you,” she said. Stomps flicked his ears. “Have they treated you well? Gotten enough to eat?” She had not been able to visit him since her training, much less ride him. But Stomps had been well-groomed and seemed to be the same weight as she had left him. The horse snorted hot air into her hand. She laughed.
“I never had a horse of my own.” Senri knew the voice. Lanan. Obviously she had done a rush job packing as well. “What did you say his name was? Pounce?”
“Stomps. I gave him the name when I was younger.” Stomps leaned forward and rubbed against her forehead. She chuckled and pulled away. “He would always paw the ground when I came out for a ride, like he was excited. He could have been nervous too, I guess. He was very young at the time.”
“He seems sweet,” said Lanan. She selected a brown mare and tied her travel bag to its saddle.
“He’s...interesting,” said Senri. “He has his quirks, but yes, I suppose sweet is in there as well.” She loaded her own supplies onto his back. “Are Yahn and Nat on their way?”
“They’ll be a few more minutes,” said Lanan. “They wanted to finish eating first.”
“Boys,” Senri muttered.
Lanan smiled. “I would have stayed too, if you had not left in such a rush.”
Senri’s fingers froze with the knot they tied. She turned to the other Warrior. “Did Nat say anything?”
Lanan shook her head. “He’s clueless. I, on the other hand, possess proper empathy.”
“You’re an interesting woman, you know that?” Senri resumed securing her supplies, hunting for a spot for her arrows on the already packed saddle.
“Are you coming on to me?” Lanan ran a hand through her short black hair. “If so, you’re terrible at it.”
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