Diplomat

by Robin Roseau

  She dropped her gaze, and I wasn’t sure she was going to answer, but Gibslen said gently, “We won’t be offended.”

  “We hear stories,” Ressie said. Then she looked up. “They have to be just that. Stories. You spent months in Ressaline last year. And you’re so comfortable with them now.”

  That was when Wesla Kunzite stepped up. She froze when she realized Ressie was with us, and she was letting Gibslen hold her hand. “Well,” she said. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” Ressie asked.

  “No offense,” Wesla replied.

  She looked at the open seat, and she looked at Corporal Pandary, about as far from the open seat as could happen. But Pandary stood and greeted Wesla, reminding her of names. I provided additional introductions, and by the time things had settled, Malstar was in Pandary’s old seat beside Nissault, with Pandary on my left and Wesla just past her. Then Malstar looked at me, got back up, and collected the free chair, making adjustments so it fit between her and Nissault.

  Wesla watched all that and smiled. “Cute,” she said. “I heard they have…” Seorie set a mug down in front of her. “First press!” She took a gulp and moaned. “Oh, first press.” She took another gulp. “Do you guys know how this is made?”

  “You’re from the coast, as I recall,” I said. “Can you hold your explanation?” I turned back to Ressie. “Stories are stories. There are some distinct differences in our societies.”

  “Like they don’t have men. I don’t even know how that even works. How do they make babies?”

  “That’s a very good question,” I said. “Maybe they’ll tell us. Yes, that’s one difference. There are others. Some they talk about openly. For some, they want people to travel to Charth to learn, and you are not allowed free travel inside Ressaline until you have done so.”

  “That’s why you’re welcome on their side of the river, but we need an escort.”

  “Right. I’m going to say this. There are some distinct differences between our cultures. I do not know if I completely agree with the Ressaline way of doing things. But I enjoyed my stay in Charth, and I have liked every Ressaline woman I have met.”

  “Why, thank you, Allium,” Nissault said.

  “Well, I didn’t mean you,” I said with a smile. Nissault offered a mock pout while everyone else laughed.

  “You’re just holding her hand so she doesn’t run around, causing trouble,” Gibslen suggested.

  “Exactly,” I confirmed. I turned my attention back. “Ressie, I’m pleased you decided to join us. I have known Gibslen for all of fifteen minutes longer than you have, but I believe you are entirely safe in her care.”

  “She is,” Gibslen confirmed. She lifted Ressie’s hands and kissed the fingers. Ressie watched this intently then picked up her mug and drank. Setting it back on the table, she looked down for a moment, but then she looked back up. “Are we having dinner?” She looked around. “Malstar doesn’t have a date. We could see if Liessa wants to join us.” She looked around the table. “She’s the only other woman on our team.”

  “If Liessa wants to join us,” I said, “she would be as welcome as you are, but I’m not sure we should go looking.”

  “Why not?” Ressie asked. “She and I talked a little. She’s as curious about the Ressalines as anyone.” She turned to Malstar again. “I don’t know if she’d hold your hand, though.”

  No one spoke, and I realized they were all watching me, some more openly than others.

  “Why not?” I echoed. “Good question. I don’t have a good answer.”

  Nissault leaned to me. “In case you can’t tell, Malstar hopes you’ll agree.”

  I nodded. No, I actually couldn’t tell. “All right, Ressie. You wouldn’t happen to know where she is?”

  “I know exactly where she is,” Ressie said. “Give me five minutes.” She turned to Gibslen. “Do not let someone take my seat.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” the woman replied.

  Ressie freed herself, finished her mug, and stood up. “I’d take another of these.” Then we watched her run from the room.

  And yes, the Ressalines all checked out her backside, causing me to laugh. When Gibslen turned back to the table, she was smiling broadly. She looked at me and said, “Ms. Cuprite, if Lady Olivia were to ask you, would you state that Ms. Lazuli made the first move?”

  I laughed. “I would, but I will also state she was exceedingly clear.”

  “That covers tonight,” Gibslen said. “What about tomorrow and next week? I find it unlikely any of the women of Flarvor are accustomed to taking the lead in their relationships.”

  I turned to Nissault and leaned to her ear. “Do I need to worry she knows what is appropriate?”

  “She knows the rules,” Nissault whispered back. “We all do. Even if we were to invite someone to our side of the river, we’ll treat them based on the laws from this side.”

  “All right. To be clear, if you and I follow other rules, I do not want to have to explain that to anyone. No one can see me dressed in an unexpected fashion.”

  “For that, trust us.”

  I nodded and returned my gaze to Gibslen. “You are aware she may not know her own mind. No means no.”

  “What else would it mean?”

  Wesla laughed, then covered her mouth. “She’s serious?”

  “She is,” I said. “Gibslen, she made the first move, but she placed limits. If those limits move, it better be because you are sweet and gentle, and not because you’re pushy.”

  She turned to look at Wesla for a moment. “Is ‘pushy’ a polite substitute for words I might find offensive?”

  “Not when talking about you,” I said. “But it could be if I were talking about some men of Flarvor.”

  “Different cultures,” Nissault said quickly. “You know that, Gibslen.”

  “I know that,” she said. She turned her gaze back to me. “And you are protecting your employee, which I can understand and appreciate. It is safe to trust me.”

  “Do you understand?”

  “Probably not completely, but I think perhaps I should be happy I don’t understand completely.”

  “Then I’d say she understands, wouldn’t you, Wesla?”

  “I believe you are right, Allium. I want to know about these limits.”

  “Hand holding and a potential good night kiss are all that are on the table tonight,” I said.

  She snorted. “Maybe for Gibslen.” She turned to Pandary. “My limits are more expansive. Yours?”

  “Definitely more expansive.”

  “Good.”

  “Tell us about first press, Wesla,” I said.

  She did a better job than I would have. Of course she did; she’d actually made it before. She was just finishing when Ressie returned, a nervous Liessa in tow. I let Ressie handle introductions. And then Malstar led Liessa to the remaining vacant seat.

  “We won’t need another chair,” I said.

  We got settled. Seorie appeared, saw to drinks, and then offered our dinner choices. Liessa’s eyes were wide, and I wasn’t sure whether she was feeling as open minded as even Ressie was being, but she offered a smile to Malstar. The two whispered, and then Liessa set her hand on the table. Malstar claimed it. Liessa smiled again.

  Nissault leaned to me. “You look like a mother hen.”

  I leaned back. “So do you.”

  She snorted. “Lady Olivia doesn’t assign the utterly clueless to border stations. We understand this is a significant event tonight.”

  I gazed into her eyes. “I like your looks.” I squeezed her hand. “I like this, too.” I leaned very closely. “I haven’t even seen a challenge.”

  “We’d keep it very simple,” she said. “You’ll lose. How long?”

  “Until morning,” I said. “Is that enough?”

  “Everyone has her opinion,” she replied. “Let’s talk more when we can be less guarded.”

  “All right.”
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  Then she laughed. “I had intended for you to get to know our witnesses. You filled more seats than I expected.”

  “Is that a problem?”

  “Only because you don’t know Fodorie or Trellen. They’ll have to do instead.”

  “Is that enough?”

  “A lot of people hold very private challenges, but with foreigners, we’re being a little more cautious.”

  I nodded, and we turned our attention back to the full conversation.

  * * * *

  I thought everyone was having a nice time. Dinner was good. Seorie did more flirting. Ressie and Liessa both calmed down and seemed to enjoy the company of their companions. Wesla had Pandary wrapped around her finger, which appeared to amuse Nissault. But she was wrapped around mine, so that was fine.

  There wasn’t any entertainment scheduled, but when I’d formed the road crew, I’d made sure we had a few musicians. Liessa wasn’t a musician, but she had a beautiful singing voice. The quality of the playing wasn’t necessarily up to the standards of professional musicians in Barrish, but for an outlying area like this, it wasn’t bad at all.

  Nissault invited me to dance. We danced for two songs, and then Liessa said, “I want us to do something slow and sweet.” She walked between the tables and collected Malstar, inviting the confused woman to the stage.

  “Hold me,” I told Nissault.

  The music began. It was sweet, and Liessa’s voice never sounded better. During the instrumental portions, she danced with Malstar.

  And then, when the song ended, she said, “Kiss me.”

  I whispered to Nissault, “Invite me for a walk.”

  “Would you like to go for a walk?”

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

  * * * *

  We had arms around each other as we strode the dark bridge. Finally, she said, “You became quiet.”

  “So did you.”

  “Were you talking by the end of your first?”

  “No. I spoke exactly two words in two months. I found other ways to communicate.”

  “I’m familiar with those ways,” she replied. “I haven’t done a challenge in three years.”

  “I was given to believe all Ressalines are hedonistic wenches, having sex party challenges every other week.”

  “Those are the decadent city folk,” she said with a laugh. “I’m a simple country girl.”

  “Right,” I said. “How many sex slaves do you have?”

  “They’re pleasure slaves,” she corrected.

  “How many?”

  “None. Mine are all farm laborers.”

  “Is that what you’re going to do to me?”

  “It’s hard to do farm work at night. Oh, no, you’ll be wearing red resin an hour from now.”

  I said nothing for a minute. We crossed the halfway point and were technically inside Ressaline. It felt different. “Nissault?”

  “I’ll take care of you,” she said.

  “This is my first since my first.”

  “I know,” she said. “Are you worried this is a mistake?”

  “Is Lady Olivia going to be mad at us?”

  “I’d rather not talk about that.”

  I came to a stop on the bridge, a dead stop. “I’m not taking one more step if Lady Olivia is going to be mad at either of us.”

  “It might get cold here.”

  “You’re not funny,” I said.

  She sighed. “I wrote to Charth that your team was in the area.”

  “And?”

  “Lady Olivia herself told me to assess whether you appeared entirely recovered from your first. After watching how you orchestrated the evening tonight, I am fully confident.” I looked into her eyes for a moment then nodded, and we turned to continue our walk along the bridge.

  We approached the gate at the Ressaline end of the bridge. I saw a single figure in leather standing beside the guardhouse, waiting for us. We drew closer, and Nissault said, “Allium Cuprite, this is Fodorie.

  We clasped hands, and the woman said, “Is it my turn next time?”

  I laughed. “I’m sure Nissault would love to accept a challenge from you.” Both women laughed. I thought for a moment then said, “We won’t be in the area forever, and I’m still growing accustomed to my team’s efficiency. And so, I don’t know how often we’ll be in Tebradine. And while I’m willing to do this a few times when I know I’m going to lose, eventually I’m going to grow tired of never winning.”

  “I don’t blame you,” said Fodorie. “Some women,” and she gave a pointed look at Nissault, “won’t play if they aren’t confident of winning. But some of us have a different attitude.”

  “Are you trying to sucker me into believing you’ll let me win?”

  “No. I’m saying that I’ll openly give you a handicap, beginning with our second time. The goal is to win half.”

  “Really?”

  “If you win that one, then the next time, we cut the handicap in half. If you lose, we increase it by half. We bracket how much it takes for you to win and how much it takes so you almost certainly lose, and then we make smaller adjustments each time, finding a balance. You might not win our second, but if not, you’d have to be really quite bad to lose the third and really, really bad to lose the fourth.”

  “All right,” I said slowly. “There are six of you and only one of me,” I said.

  “Nissault and Trellen won’t play this way,” Fodorie said. “The rest of us do, so whatever handicap you work out with me carries through to the rest.” She explained a little more.

  “Huh,” I said. “It seems, Nissault, that if you want me more than once, you might have to amend your personal policy.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I can’t.”

  “Is that some sort of rule?”

  “She’s an addict.”

  “I am not an addict.”

  “She gets addicted if she loses.”

  “I am not an addict,” Nissault insisted.

  “Fine,” said Fodorie. “She’s not an addict. She’s worried she’ll become an addict if she lets herself lose.” Nissault didn’t deny that.

  “Well,” I said. “I’m here with you tonight, and I have no illusions I’m going to win.” I turned back to Fodorie. “I don’t know my schedule, but I’ve liked all of you, and as long as all of you continue to treat both me and the other Flavorians the way you have so far, I’ll accept challenges from you per the terms you just outlined. You can work out between yourselves any sort of rotation.”

  Fodorie laughed. “No problem.”

  “That will change if I feel abused afterwards, or if I witness abuse of any other slaves, temporary or permanent.”

  “We don’t do that,” Nissault said. “You don’t need to worry about it.”

  “People are people,” I said. “I’m not necessarily worried, but I intend to speak clearly.”

  “Clarity is good.”

  “So. What do we do now?”

  “We go inside. Trellen is around?”

  “She’s inside sulking she didn’t get to go to town.”

  “Just how old is this Trellen?”

  “94,” Fodorie said immediately.

  “She’s not 94!” Nissault said.

  “Going on 12,” Fodorie added.

  “I take it you two had another fight?”

  Fodorie paused. “Ignore me, Ms. Cuprite. This outpost gets a little too small sometimes. Trellen and I are actually good friends. I’m in a mood because I’m stuck here for the first time any of us have been invited across the river. Trellen’s in a worse mood over it.”

  “It’s fine,” I said. “So you’re saying my invitation this afternoon should have been less expansive?”

  “No!” they both said quickly.

  I laughed. “So. We go inside. We find Trellen. Then what?”

  “Then, in front of witnesses, I formally challenge you,” Nissault said. “We agree on the details. There are papers to sign, and because we’re the l
ocal authorities, one of them will sign with us, authorizing our event. We hold the event, and then I take you home and enjoy you.”

  I smiled. “Okay. And when I win?” They both laughed. “Humor me,” I added. “It’s not like it’s a good idea for me to take you back across the river, and I don’t actually know what to do at the end.”

  “We’d provide space here,” she answered. “And whoever witnesses our agreement also takes responsibility for helping you release me in the morning.”

  I tugged her arm. “Time is wasting.”

  The three of us stepped into the guardhouse, where we found a fourth woman playing cards by herself. She looked up, considered me for a moment, then swept all the cards together. We waited for her to box them and stand up. “You must be Trellen.”

  “Ms. Cuprite.”

  “Allium,” I said. “I hope the next time I make a similar offer, you’ll be able to join us.”

  “It’s up to the vagaries of schedules,” she replied.

  “We’ll trade as necessary,” Nissault said. “If you intend to rotate, Allium?”

  “If I do this more than once, yes, I will rotate.” I looked at Trellen. “I understand you don’t offer similar handicaps to the ones Fodorie and the others offer for people like me.”

  She paused before answering. When she spoke, it was said very carefully. “If we talk first, and I think I can trust you, I’d offer you the same handicap the others do.”

  “But-” Fodorie began to say.

  Trellen held up her hand. “I have given each of you a fair chance with me.”

  “That’s not what I was going to say,” Fodorie complained. “You’ll mess with our average.”

  Trellen laughed. “Of course I will.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Trellen is better at the challenges we tend to do here,” Fodorie explained. “So even with the same handicap, she’ll probably beat you. Which means per our arrangement, you’ll then get a bigger handicap the next time.”

  I laughed. “Sounds fair to me.”

  “It is fair to you,” Trellen said. “For what they’re trying to do, it’s not really fair to whomever comes after me.”

  “And I won’t beat you?”

  “Unlikely,” she said. “I’m that good.”

  “I’m sure,” I said. “How about we focus on tonight?”