The Complete Tawny Man Trilogy Omnibus (104 page)

‘Ssh,’ I hushed him hastily. I wondered how he knew all that, and wanted to hear more, but for now I must be aware of every nuance of all that was said. He subsided, but I could sense his ferment. His cool cheek was pressed against mine as we stared
side by side through the narrow slit. He rested a hand on my shoulder to steady himself, but I could feel the tension of his suppressed excitement. Obviously, this meeting had a deeper significance to him. Later, I would ask him who the others were. For now, I was engrossed with the scene before me. I only wished I could see the Queen, Chade and Prince Dutiful as I watched this encounter unfold.

I listened as the Queen offered thanks for the gifts and extended welcome to the emissaries. Her words were simple. She did not reply with extravagant compliments and embroidered titles, but instead offered them sincerity in honest phrases. She was thrilled by the surprise of their long-expected visit. She hoped they would enjoy their stay in Buckkeep, and that this delegation represented a future of more open communication between the Six Duchies and Bingtown. The tall woman, Serilla, stood serenely, listening intently to the Queen’s words. The tattooed woman folded her lips as Kettricken spoke, plainly holding back some response. The man at her side cast her an anxious glance. He was a broad-shouldered, bluff man, his hair cropped short and curly above his weathered face. He was obviously accustomed to physical work, and to getting things accomplished rather than wading through protocol and courtesies. As he waited for the Queen to finish speaking, his fists knotted and unknotted themselves reflexively. The bird on his shoulder shifted restlessly. The other man, a narrow, bookish sort of fellow, seemed more of Serilla’s cast. He would let Kettricken set the pace for this encounter.

Serilla was the one who spoke when Kettricken’s voice fell silent. She, in turn, thanked the Queen and all the Six Duchies for such a gracious welcome. She told them that all of them would welcome the chance to rest in our peaceful land, far from the horrors of the war that Chalced had forced upon them. She spoke some little time on what they had been enduring; the random attacks on their ships that disrupted all commerce, the
very lifeblood of Bingtown, and the hardships this created for a city that relied on trade to feed its population. She spoke of Chalcedean raids on outlying Bingtown settlements.

‘I didn’t think they had any outlying settlements,’ I breathed in an aside to the Fool.

‘Not many. But as their population has swelled with freed slaves, folk have been attempting to find arable land.’

‘Freed slaves?’

‘Sshh,’ the Fool responded. He was right. I needed to listen now, and ask my questions later. I leaned my forehead against the cold stone of the wall.

Serilla was swiftly reviewing Bingtown’s current list of grievances with Chalced. Most of them were ones I was very familiar with, and many were the same quarrels that the Six Duchies had with our grasping neighbour to the south. Chalcedean raiders, border disputes, harassment and piracy of passing trade vessels, ridiculous taxes on those merchants that did attempt to trade with them: all of these were familiar rants. But then she launched into an account of how Bingtown had risen up against corrupt Chalcedean influence to free all the slaves within its borders and to offer them a chance to become full citizens of Bingtown. Bingtown would no longer allow slave-ships to stop in its port, regardless of whether they were bound north to Chalced or south to Jamaillia. By an agreement with Bingtown’s new allies in the so-called Pirate Isles, slave-ships that put into Bingtown were boarded, the cargoes seized and the slaves offered freedom.

This disruption of the Chalcedean slave-trade was a major area of conflict. It had brought into new prominence the old disagreement over where the Chalcedean-Bingtown border actually lay. In both of these areas, Serilla hoped that the Six Duchies would recognize the legitimacy of Bingtown’s position. She knew that Shoaks Duchy welcomed escaped slaves to their lands as free men, and that Shoaks had also suffered from Chalced’s efforts to claim lands not rightfully
part of that dukedom. Could she, perhaps, hope that the Six Duchies would grant what their previous envoys had proposed to the most gracious and royal Queen Kettricken – an alliance, and support for the war against Chalced? In return, Bingtown and her ally had much to offer the Six Duchies. Open trade with Bingtown, and a share in Bingtown’s favourable trade agreements with the so-called Pirate Isles could be of great benefit to all. The gifts bestowed today represented but a small part of the spectrum of goods that would become available to the people of the Six Duchies.

Queen Kettricken heard her out gravely. But at the end of Serilla’s speech, she had offered nothing new to us. It was Chade, in his role as Councillor, who gravely pointed this out. The wonders of their trade goods were well known, and justifiably so. But not even for such wonders could the Six Duchies consider moving into war. He concluded his remarks with, ‘Our most gracious Queen Kettricken must always consider first the well-being of our own folk. You know that our relations with Chalced are at best uneasy. Our grievances with them are many, and yet we have held our hands back from waging a full war with them on our own accounts. All know the saying, “Sooner or later, there is always war with Chalced.” They are a contentious folk. But war is expensive and disruptive. War later is almost always better than war now. Why should we risk provoking their full wrath on Bingtown’s behalf?’ Chade let the question hang for a moment, and then made it even plainer. ‘What do you offer the Six Duchies that will not eventually come to us, regardless of the outcome of this war of yours?’

Several dukes in the back nodded sagely. All knew this was the Trader way. All they understood was bargaining and trade. They expected Chade to haggle, and haggle he would.

‘Most gracious Queen, noble Prince, wise Councillor and lordly Dukes and Duchesses, we offer you …’ Serilla halted, obviously flustered by the directness of Chade’s question.
‘Our offer is a delicate one, perhaps best reviewed in private contemplation before you seek the agreement of your nobles. Perhaps it would be better …’ Serilla did not glance towards the nobles in the back of the room, but her pause was plain.

‘Please, Serilla of Bingtown. Speak plainly. Put your proposal before all of us, so that my nobles and my councillors and I may discuss it freely together.’

Serilla’s eyes widened, almost in shock. I wondered what sort of place Jamaillia was, that she was so surprised by my queen’s forthright answer. While she floundered, the man with the parrot on his shoulder suddenly cleared his throat. Serilla shot him a warning look, but the man stepped forward anyway. ‘Most gracious Queen, if I may presume to address you directly?’

Kettricken’s response was almost puzzled. ‘Of course. You are Trader Jorban, I believe?’

He nodded gravely. ‘That is correct. Most gracious Queen Kettricken, ruler of all the Six Duchies and heir to the Mountain Throne.’ I felt uncomfortable for the young man as he strung the titles awkwardly together. Obviously such flowery address was new to him, but despite Serilla’s angry glance, he was determined to forge ahead with it. ‘I believe you are a person, a queen, that is, who can appreciate directness. I have chafed under this delay. But now, hearing today that you have as little love for Chalced as we do, I dare to hope that you will be in favour of our proposition as soon as you hear it.’ He cleared his throat, then plunged on. ‘We come to you seeking to forge an alliance against a common enemy. We have had three years of war with Chalced. It has drained us, and our early hopes of a swift end to the conflict have faded. The Chalcedeans are a stubborn folk. Every defeat we deal them only seems to make them more determined to injure us. They thrive on war; they love raiding and destruction, as we do not. Bingtown needs peace to prosper, peace and free seas. We depend on trade, not just for our livelihoods, but for our most
basic needs. Magic and wonders we may possess in Bingtown, and yet we cannot feed our children on that alone. We have no vast fields to grow grain and pasture cattle. Chalced would overrun us, out of simple greed. They would kill us all, to possess what we have, with no understanding of what that possessing requires of us. They will destroy what they seek, in the very act of trying to possess it. What we have cannot be taken from us, and still exist. It is …’ The man’s words shuddered to a halt, like a ship run aground on a sand-bar.

Kettricken waited for a time, as if offering him a chance to find his tongue, but the man only spread his hands open, wide and helpless. ‘I’m a trader and a sailor, ma’am. Most gracious Queen.’ He appended the honorific as if he had suddenly recalled it. ‘I speak out of our need, and yet I do not explain myself well.’

‘What do you ask, Trader Jorban?’ Queen Kettricken’s question was simple yet polite.

Hope gleamed suddenly in the man’s eyes, as if her directness reassured him. ‘We know that the folk of your Shoaks Duchy hold a hard border with Chalced. You contain them, and your vigilance demands much of their attention.’ He turned suddenly, to sweep a wide bow to the nobles in the back of the chamber. ‘For this, we thank you.’

The Duke acknowledged his thanks with a grave nod. Trader Jorban turned back to the Queen. ‘But we must ask more than this. We ask your warships and warriors to pressure Chalced from your side. To harry and sink the ships that interfere in our trade with you. We would … put an end to the generations of strife Chalced has forced on all of us.’ He drew a sudden breath. ‘We would subjugate that land completely, and end this ancient strife. If they will not abide as our neighbour, then let them accept our rule instead.’

Serilla the Jamaillian suddenly interrupted. ‘Trader Jorban, you go too far! Fair and gracious Queen Kettricken, we come but to make suggestions, not to propose a conquest.’

Jorban set his jaw and dived in as soon as Serilla fell silent. ‘I do not make a suggestion. I come to bargain with potential allies. I seek for an end to Chalced’s endless war against us. I will speak plainly what is in many Traders’ hearts.’ His blue eyes glinted as he met Kettricken’s gaze. He spoke honestly, with passion. ‘Let us subjugate the Chalcedean states completely, dividing their territory between us. All would gain. Bingtown would have arable land, and an end to Chalcedean harassment. The Duke of Shoaks could expand his holdings and have, not an enemy at his back, but an ally and trading partner. Trade to the south would open wide for the Six Duchies.’

‘Subjugate Chalced completely?’ I could tell from Kettricken’s voice that she had never even considered it, that such a conquering ran counter to all her Mountain ways. But in the back of the room, the Duke of Shoaks was grinning broadly. This was a war he would relish, a meal of vengeance long in the simmering for him. He overstepped himself, perhaps, when he lifted a fist and suggested, ‘Let us include the Duke of Farrow in this partitioning. And perhaps your lord father, King Eyod of the Mountains, would like a share of this, my queen. He, too, shares a boundary with Chalced, and from all accounts has never been too fond of them.’

‘Peace, Shoaks,’ she rebuked him, but it was a gentler shushing than I would have expected. Perhaps there was history there I did not know. Just how bitterly did the Mountain Kingdom dispute its own border with Chalced? Did Kettricken bring an older rancour to this conflict than I knew? Yet there was reserve as she replied to the Bingtown delegation. ‘You offer us a share of your war, as if it were trade goods we should covet. We do not. We have had a war, and even now we seek to make those former enemies our friends. Your war does not tempt us. You offer us Chalced’s lands, if we defeat them. That is a distant and uncertain victory. Holding that territory might be more of a burden than an advantage. A conquered people are seldom content to accept foreign rule. You offer us free
trade to the south, if we achieve that victory. Yet Bingtown has ever courted open trade with us; I do not see that as a new gain. Again, I ask you. Why should we even consider this?’

I watched the Bingtown envoys exchange glances, and smiled small to myself. So. A proposal to divide Chalced’s territory was not the limit of their offer. But whatever it was that they held back, they would not part with it unless forced to it. I felt no sympathy. They should not have provoked Chade’s curiosity as to how deep their purse might be. Trader Jorban made a small gesture with his hand, palm up, as if inviting someone else to succeed where he had failed in his bargaining.

Then, as if by accord, the Bingtown merchants stepped aside, parting to let the shrouded man stand directly before the Queen. Some unspoken agreement had been reached amongst them.

I swiftly revised my opinion of the hooded man. He was no servant. Perhaps none of them were, not even the woman with the slave tattoos. As the veiled man stepped suddenly forward, I winced, expecting some sort of attack, but all he did was to throw back his hood. His lace veil, attached to it, was swept away with it. I gasped at what was revealed, but others, Chade amongst them, were less subtle.

‘Eda, mercy!’ I heard the old assassin exclaim, and from the back of the hall there were exclamations of both horror and shock.

The envoy was young, younger than Dutiful and Hap, though he was as tall. Scales rimmed his eyes and framed his mouth. They were not cosmetic. A fringe of shaggy growths depended from his jaw. He drew himself up very straight. I had thought his hood exaggerated his height. Instead I saw now that the bones of his arms and legs were unnaturally long, yet somehow he still managed to convey grace rather than awkwardness. He looked directly at Kettricken, uncowed by her position, and spoke in a boy’s clear tenor.

‘My name is Selden Vestrit, of the Bingtown Trader Vestrits, fostered by the Khuprus family of the Rain Wild Traders.’ The second part of his introduction made no sense to me. No one lived in the Rain Wilds. The lands adjacent to the river were all swamp and bog and morass. It was one reason that the boundary between Chalced and Bingtown had never been firmly set. The river and its swampy shores defied them both. But what the boy said next was even more outrageous. ‘You have heard Serilla, who speaks for the Council of Bingtown. There are others here who can speak for the Tattooed, those once slaves and Bingtown citizens, and for the Bingtown Traders and for our liveships. I speak for the Rain Wild Traders. But I also speak for Tintaglia, the last true dragon, sworn to aid Bingtown in our time of need. Her words do I bear.’