“I’m sorry,” Mari said, not knowing what else to say.
“What did you want to speak to me about, Lady?”
Mari nodded outwards. “There’s an Imperial delegation coming to negotiate the end of the war with me.”
“I’ve been told that,” Jane said.
“I would appreciate your thoughts and advice on it. I can’t imagine the Bakre Confederation’s government is happy about it.”
Jane paused again before speaking. “The Confederation Vice President of State would say one thing. Jane of Danalee would say another.”
“What would the vice president tell me?” Mari asked.
“To respect the rights and prerogatives of the Confederation government. To listen to their desires and expectations and honor them in your discussions with the Imperials.”
“And Jane would say?”
She looked Mari in the eyes. “Jane of Danalee would tell you to honor the sacrifices of those who died to defend Dorcastle, and not to let their sacrifices be tarnished by using them for purposes that are not for the profit and benefit of all.”
“I will remember that,” Mari said. “I promise you that I will.”
“I’ve learned what your promises are worth, Lady, that they stand firmer than the walls of this city. I have no doubt you will honor your words to me.”
“Call me Mari.”
Jane smiled slightly. “Thank you, Mari. The Confederation President of State will want to know why you sought to speak with me. What should I tell him?”
“Tell him I wanted to express my condolences for the death of Vice President Eric to one who risked herself alongside us,” Mari said.
Jane’s smile changed, taking on a hard aspect. “I imagine that will forestall any other questions he has in mind.” She got to her feet with a little difficulty. “The next soldier I hear sneering about diplomats being in a safe profession is going to get my cast upside his or her head.”
“I’m sorry that you got hurt,” Mari said.
“It’s not like I got run over by a wagon while going to get groceries,” Jane said. “I was fighting for a great cause. I suspect my arm will heal a lot faster than what’s in here,” she added, tapping her chest. “That’s the way of it, isn’t it? Figuring out how to live on when so many others died.”
“They won’t be forgotten, Jane,” Mari said. “Not what they did, and not who they were.”
“No. I’m sure they won’t. Thank you, Mari.” Jane half-bowed toward Mari before leaving.
* * * *
The next day high-ranking dignitaries from the Confederation, the Western Alliance, Tiae, and the Free Cities arrived. Mari was called to what was described only as “a very important conference” with them. She and Alain were both still too weak to handle flights of stairs and long hallways, so they were carriedto the meeting in chairs that had poles fastened to the sides. Mari felt ridiculous, as well as uneasy on the stairs when her chair tilted, but thought it an easier thing to endure than many other things she had been through.
They went out through the streets, where Mari stared at her surroundings. She had been told her hospital was beyond the seventh wall, in the part of the city that had received little damage, but it was still strange to see intact structures when her memory of Dorcastle was filled with entire blocks of buildings burning and collapsing.
Men and women began shouting as they saw Mari and Alain, a crowd rapidly gathering to watch them pass, chants of “freedom and the daughter” making it hard for Mari to maintain her composure. She smiled and waved despite her lingering weakness, trying to focus on what had been achieved and not the human cost.
They reached the site of the meeting, a grand inn serving as a temporary government building while repairs were made to others still intact enough to be salvaged.
Guards, half of them wearing Bakre Confederation uniforms and the rest the uniforms of Mari’s army, stood before wide double doors leading into a ballroom. The Confederation soldiers were armed with short spears and swords, while Mari’s soldiers carried rifles. She suspected that General Flyn had deliberately ensured that her soldiers were much better armed than their Confederation counterparts.
Those carrying Mari and Alain’s chairs set them down in the front of the room, then left. Mari and Alain faced ranks of comfortable chairs, all holding men and women in the dress of high-ranking officials or military officers. One of them was General Flyn. Some junior officers and officials filed out with the chair carriers, and then the door was firmly sealed.
Mari recognized one of the officials who remained, the older woman who led the city government of Julesport. Before she could say a greeting, the woman rose to her feet and began applauding.
The other officials jumped to their feet as well, with what seemed to be varying degrees of enthusiasm, and joined in the applause.
When everyone had seated themselves again, a man in the center of the front row stood up. Mari recognized him from Jane's description as her boss, the Confederation President of State. “Lady, this meeting was supposed to be with you alone.”
“My Mage goes where I go,” Mari said. “I told your people that I would not come to this meeting if he was not brought as well. He has been my partner in all things, and can claim an equal credit with me for any achievements thus far.”
The President of State hesitated only a moment. “Of course. I did not mean to imply Sir Mage Alain was not welcome. Let me begin by saying that we are honored to meet with you following the great victory won by Confederation forces at Dorcastle!”
“I had heard that a substantial role in that victory was played by the army of the daughter,” a woman seated near him remarked.
“And Tiae contributed forces!” another insisted. “That must not be forgotten!”
“Of course,” the President of State quickly agreed. “That is why Tiae has a seat at this conference.” He waved toward the back, where Mari finally spotted Colonel Hasna. Why had Queen Sien sent Hasna, of all people?
“Thank you,” Mari said to stop the debate over credit for the victory, which she found a little distasteful coming from those who hadn’t fought. “What exactly do you want to talk about?”
“The negotiations with the Imperial delegation must include representatives of the Confederation government,” the President of State declared.
“Any agreement made would have to be approved by your government, of course,” Mari agreed. “But if the Emperor has given his delegation orders only to meet with me, they won’t yield on that. You know how Imperials are.”
“The Empire is at its weakest,” a woman announced, her northern accent revealing she was from the Free Cities. “We have at our disposal weapons such as this world has never seen. This opportunity will not repeat itself. The Free City of Cristane believes that we need to make sure the Empire pays for what it has done.”
A murmur of agreement sounded among those present, though Mari noticed some did not take part.
Alain spoke, his dispassionate Mage voice ensuring attention to his words. “I know that many bodies of Confederation fighters have been removed from the streets of Dorcastle. Their bravery ensured that many more Imperials died in the attempt. Can anyone believe that the Empire has not paid dearly already?”
The woman from Cristane appeared rattled, but pressed on. “Umburan. If the Imperials are forced to yield Umburan and the lands around it—"
“Exactly what did the Free Cities do during this battle to earn such a prize?” the Confederation President of State demanded.
“The Sharr Isles are far more important,” a man in a fine suit declared. “The Western Alliance is willing to lead an expedition to expel the Imperials and establish a forward presence—"
“The Western Alliance will not have the Sharr Isles!”
“Landfall should be demanded, to ensure the Imperials are unable to once again threaten the West!”
“The Empire should be broken up—"
Angry words flew back and fort
h, many now speaking at once.
Mari, trying to control her own temper, looked at Alain.
Alain spoke one word. “Listen.”
The Great Guilds might have been recently toppled, but when a Mage gave a command in that curiously dead voice only they could achieve, commons still paid attention. Quiet fell.
Mari spoke into the resulting silence, knowing that she sounded angry. “I want one thing to be clearly understood. I did not raise an army, help bring about the overthrow of the Great Guilds, and help defend Dorcastle, in order for anyone to launch a larger, unnecessary war. If any of you are thinking of using my army and its weapons to conquer territory, they can forget it now.”
“As her general,” Flyn said, nodding to Mari, “I will affirm that I will answer only to orders from Lady Mari.”
“Then what do you intend to do with the power you have?” asked a woman wearing a pin showing the rampant horse symbol of Ihris.
Mari tried to moderate her tone, speaking forcefully but calmly. “I will demand an end to Imperial aggression. I will demand that the Sharr Isles be freed from Imperial domination. But that’s it. You! From Cristane. You want Umburan? Suppose the Empire yielded the city and its population and the lands around it to the Free Cities. How many soldiers would the Free Cities have to use to garrison that city and those lands? To keep control over a population which does not welcome them or wish to be a part of them? How much would Umburan cost you, a bleeding wound that never healed? Why would the Free Cities want to swallow that kind of poison?”
Mari paused to catch her breath, annoyed that she was still having difficulty speaking.
Alain filled the silence. “Have you seen Marandur? No? I, a Mage who felt nothing, was horrified by it. A city ground to wreckage, filled with death. Do you believe the recent siege at Dorcastle was an awful thing? Marandur was far worse. Yes, the legions are weak and broken by their attack here. But if you invade the Empire, if you strike at their homes and their families, those same legions will find their heart again. They will turn every place you seek to conquer into a ruin like Marandur, dying amid the rubble, as will your soldiers in uncounted numbers. Is that what you wish for the men and women of your lands? That they die by the thousands to claim the ruins of Imperial possessions?”
“The Confederation has suffered far more than any others,” the President of State said. “We have a right to demand full compensation for our losses.”
“Compensation?” Mari asked. “You want the Empire to pay you money? For the men and women who died defending Dorcastle?”
“For the destruction! We must rebuild! And families will need payments to make up for the loss of their loved ones. Reparations are justified!”
A finely-dressed woman snorted in derision. “No soldier of the Western Alliance will die to help fill the coffers of the Bakre Confederation.”
“No soldier of the Western Alliance died to help defend Dorcastle!”
“That’s not true,” Mari said, before another outburst could erupt. “I have among my army volunteers from the Western Alliance. And from the Free Cities, and from the Confederation, and from independent cities. Some of the volunteers died here and at Pacta Servanda. This was a victory for everyone.”
“We admire you and your accomplishments,” another woman began, “but I am the minister of the northern reaches of the Western Alliance, and these others here have similar authority and responsibilities. You are after all only a low-level Mechanic. We are dealing with issues far beyond—"
“Master Mechanic,” Mari said, annoyed that the old issue of her professional status was once again a problem.
“If you wish to lie about having admiration regarding Master Mechanic Mari,” Alain added to the minister, “it would be wise not to do so where a Mage can see and hear.”
“So, those stories of Mages’ ability to read truth and lies are accurate?” the older woman from Julesport commented with a sharp glance at the others present. “What a useful skill to have in a gathering of politicians!”
“Not all of us fear that,” a man leaning back in his seat said. “Lady Mari, you have said that you will negotiate nothing except an end to the war and freedom for the Sharr Isles. That is so?”
“An end to the war,” Mari said, “an agreement for the Empire to leave the Sharr Isles and hopefully for everyone to guarantee the neutrality of the Isles, and an agreement by the Empire to not conduct any future aggression against other countries or cities.”
“Can you exempt Ringhmon from that non-aggression agreement?” a woman asked. “They’d benefit from Imperial overlords, and they deserve them.”
Mari couldn’t help smiling. “I agree, but I think I have to be impartial and careful about making exceptions.”
“What about Syndar?”
“They’ll sue for peace,” said the man who had earlier spoken frankly. “I have had word from an agent in Syndar. Their losses at Pacta Servanda were massive. There is much sorrow in Syndar, and at least one ruler has already been deposed by an angry populace. Syndar will not be in a position to fight for some time. They will ask for peace, they’ll probably ask for your protection against vengeance from Tiae, and as part of that they should be forced to agree to not allow any more piracy or other aggression.”
“And allow pursuit of pirates into their waters!” someone else added.
“We can discuss that,” Mari said. “The only place directly attacked by Syndar this time was Tiae. What does Tiae want?”
Colonel Hasna stood. “Tiae desires a treaty binding Syndar not to attack or permit attacks. In all else, Queen Sien expresses every confidence in the ability of the daughter of Jules to respect and protect the rights of all.”
“Queen Sien?” someone said in a very low voice, the tone mocking.
A diplomat from the Western Alliance looked around and spoke before Mari could. “Whoever said that, I have met with Queen Sien. If you’re thinking that she’s another warlord or pretender, think again. Tiae is a kingdom once more, and its leader is not to be underestimated. What was said earlier is true. The entire League of Syndar is scared to death that Queen Sien is going to ride through their islands with fire and sword to avenge the attack on Pacta Servanda.”
“Do you trust her word?” Mari asked, pleased that someone else had defended Sien.
“Yes.”
A woman stood up. “As the Confederation President of the Senate, I must take heed of the mood of our people. Tiae sent aid to Dorcastle. Tiae’s soldiers died alongside our own in this fight. Everything I’m hearing from the people of the Confederation is that to them, Tiae has gone from being a frightening land of chaos to being a loyal and welcome friend. We can’t run roughshod over Tiae’s interests or our own people will make us regret it.”
“And,” a Confederation admiral commented, “Queen Sien is probably more popular in the Confederation than anyone in this room, with two notable exceptions.” He nodded toward Mari and Alain.
“What about the Mechanics?” the woman from Cristane asked. “It seems every Guild Hall is claiming the peace of the daughter, like that means something.”
“Ask the people of your cities if it means something,” a man near her grumbled.
“This woman cannot dictate what we do!”
“You think so? Go against the wishes of the daughter and see how long your government lasts.”
Mari, not happy with the turn the conversation had taken, broke in. “You need Mechanics. You all know I’ve got schools down at Pacta Servanda that teach basic Mechanic skills to commons. But if you want to keep using the technology you already have, you need Mechanics to do the work. And now that those Mechanics are freed from the need to follow orders that nothing ever change, they can do better work and build better things and more of those things, and compete with each other to build new things that cost less. I’ve got access to technology that will create wonders on this world. It will be shared with everyone. But we have to advance by stages—"
“W
hy?”
“For the same reason you can’t suddenly create a building out of thin air! You need to get the materials and the design, lay the foundation, build the walls level by level, and everything else.” Mari held up her far-talker. “These will be available for everyone now. But they’re hard to build. And better ones will require making better tools to make them with. And some of the processes used to make these new things are themselves hazardous. If you don’t handle them right, a lot of people could be killed or hurt. If you want your cities and countries to be able to make use of the new technology, to not fall behind other cities and countries, to be able to build these new things safely, then you will accept Mechanics are a part of the New Day.”
“But they won’t tell us what to do anymore!"
“That’s right. I’ve told them that in no uncertain terms. Any who feel otherwise can go to the remnants of the Mechanics Guild inside the Empire’s borders.”
“I can’t speak for others,” the diplomat from the Western Alliance said in a thoughtful voice, “but the peace of the daughter seems to me to offer a perfect solution for dealing with those who want revenge and retaliation. The daughter says we shouldn’t do that! If you don’t like it, talk to her. The daughter is probably the only person with the popular authority to make that work. It’s ironic that she turned out to be a Mechanic herself.”
“If she wasn’t," the woman from Ihris said, "the other Mechanics wouldn’t trust her.”
“I suppose not. And the Mages? What of them?”
Alain answered. “The Mages will no longer dictate to commons. But with the collapse of the Mage Guild’s authority, there will no longer be any rules that each Guild Hall must follow. Some Mages will change, as I have. Others will cling to old ways.”
“They’re dangerous.”
“Some are,” Alain agreed. “It must be made clear to them that they must now abide by the laws others have made. That can only be done by Mages such as myself who see a new wisdom and can speak to such Mages in ways that will cause them to listen.”
The Wrath of the Great Guilds (The Pillars of Reality Book 6) Page 25