The Jongurian Mission (16 page)

The same serving girls scurried busily about, depositing fresh trays of food onto the tables and taking the empty plates and glasses back to the kitchens.
Bryn’s mouth watered at the sight and smell of food. There were piles of crisp bacon and mountains of still-sizzling sausages; fried potatoes and eggs cooked in every way imaginable; loaves of wheat, rye, and sweet breads spread out on each table; and large plates of strawberries, bananas, apples, oranges, and grapes overflowing around them.

A hand shot up from one of the tables and waved frantically at them as they stood by the entrance.
Rodden squinted, then smiled.

“There’s Orin,” he said pointing.”

They did the best they could to shuffle between the small amount
s of space between benches of hungry men devouring their morning meal. Orin was in the near-center of the hall. As they approached he patted a few men on the back who were sitting at the table, and they grabbed their trays and moved.

“Good morning, how
’re you feeling today?” Orin asked, a large smile lighting up his face.

“Very good, thank you,” Rodden said as they approached, clasping Orin by the hand.
“And you?”

“Oh, I could
’ve done with a bit more sleep, but other than that I feel quite good.”

“I imagine that not everyone here this morning can say the same,” Halam said as he took Orin’s offered hand.”

“No, no indeed,” Orin replied with a laugh. “I’ve heard quite a few grumblings about headaches from too much wine last night, and quite a few more about the early hour.”

“Well, they’ve never done a
hard day’s work on a farm, then,” Bryn said as he made it through the crunch of benches to stand beside them.

“No, I imagine most of these men wouldn’t know the difference between a plow
and a pole-axe,” Orin said with a smile as he clasped Bryn’s hand. “Now, please, take a seat and dig into this wonderful food that’s been prepared for us this morning.

It didn’t take any prodding from Orin.
Despite the fact Bryn had stuffed himself the night before on all the fine foods the palace had to offer, a hunger rumbled in his belly. Maybe it was the lack of food on the journey to Baden, or that he’d never eaten like this at home; but it could also just have been that he was hungry, and a bit nervous as to what the day held for him.

Rodden and Halam seemed equally hungry themselves, and took bacon and sausages from the platters in the center of the table, tore off large chunks of hot bread, and grabbed handfuls of fruit.
Once again, Orin just sat back and watched them eat.

“Not hungry again this morning, Orin?” Rodden asked, seeing the older man watching them eat with a smile of satisfaction on his face.

“Oh, I got here early, before this hall was half-full, and had my fill then.
No, I’ll be fine until lunch, and probably hungry quite a bit before.”

“I hope that
when I’m your age I’ll be able to stay up all night and get up before everyone else,” Halam said through bites of sausage and bread.

“You mean to say that I’m not younger than you?” Orin said with a quizzical look of dismay on his face.

Halam tossed the crust of his bread at Orin, who easily batted it to the floor, laughing as he did so. “No, gentlemen, you know how I relish conversations–”

“Gossip more like it,” Rodden cut him off.

“Well, be that as it may,” Orin said with a sideways glance that told Rodden he was correct, “someone has to take the pulse of the various delegations that are in the palace.”

“And how does that pulse sound
today?” Halam asked.

“Right now, very steady.
But I have a feeling that it could quicken considerably as the morning progresses.” He waited a few moments while Halam and Rodden looked up from their plates to study his face for clues as to what he might mean. “Tempers may flare up when the delegates start talking of trade. After all, this was a contentious topic before the war.”

“But that was more than
twenty years ago,” Rodden scoffed, “surely there’s few who even remember some of the squabbles that occurred back then over such mundane things as freight weights and expected delivery times. You’d think that two wars would have made people realize that there’re more important things than squabbles over trade.”

“Le
t us hope so,” Orin replied. “Nearly five years, however, have passed in which there’s been peace without trade. In that time many of the provinces remembered what they had before the wars, and they look back on that time with nostalgia, but also in many cases with a sense of having been wronged. It’s those good times we hope to coax into the memories of the delegates today, and the bad which we want to do our best to keep out of sight and out of mind.”

Quite a few of the men around
them were getting up from the tables and moving toward the main entrance to the hall as well as to the side doors. Serving girls did the best they could to dart between them to clean up the empty plates as the men moved. It was evident that more men were leaving now than were coming in.

“Well,” Orin said looking around, “it looks like many have a mind to get this conference underway.”

“So where exactly is the map room?” Halam asked as he dipped the last of his bread into the grease and juices on his plate. “This whole palace seems like a maze to me, and the lack of windows sure doesn’t help any.”

“It can be reached from the main entrance to the hall we
’re in now, or the side entrance over there,” Orin answered, pointing toward the twin doors on their right, opposite those that led to the kitchens. “There’ll be guards to show the way, but I think you could just as easily find it by following the steady stream of people that are now leaving.”

“They can’t all be going to the conference,” Bryn
said. “I thought you said each delegate was only allowed a couple of advisors.”

“Yes, that’
s right, Bryn,” Orin answered him. “But I’m sure that many of these men will be close by, in adjoining halls or in the hallways, talking to their counterparts from the other provinces, soaking up as much information, whether true or false, to supply to their superiors. We’re now playing an information game, Bryn; knowledge is power, and he who has the most will come out the winner.”

“Well, shall we then begin to play this game ourselves
?” Rodden asked, pushing his empty plate away from him and getting up from the table. “I’ve been thinking of this conference for weeks now, preparing reports and compiling figures until my eyes have ached; I’m ready to get in that hall and get it over with.”

“Well, by all means then, let us proceed and make Tillatia proud,” Orin said in a gruff, authoritative voice that could be heard over the clatter of plates and chatter of small talk from the nearby tables; a voice that was more mockery than seriousness.
“We’ll show these people what trade is all about.” Several people at the nearby tables chuckled, and a few raised their glasses. Rodden and Orin shared a laugh, while Bryn smiled widely beside them, but Halam didn’t look impressed. He was all business this morning, and his serious mood quickly rubbed off on the others. Orin and Rodden straightened themselves up and headed toward the side doors leading out of the great hall and into the hallways, Bryn and Halam close behind.

As before, there was a guard to meet them, but it was clear that all they had to do was follow the other people heading in the same direction, so they told him they could find the map room themselves.

After walking for a few minutes they came to an ornate set of double doors at the end of one hallway.
There were two large hauberks set on the wall above the doors, their metal gleaming in the torchlight at this end of the palace. Several guards stood well in front of the doors with papers in their hand, stopping each group of men as they approached. They exchanged a few words and the guards checked their lists. At that point they’d make a mark on the page, exchange a few more words, and then the men would proceed toward the large double doors where they would be admitted by yet more guards, while the others were then escorted back down the hall to another destination.

Orin led them down the hallway, with Rodden at his side, and Halam and Bryn right behind.
As they approached the guards, Orin said a few words before the guard turned toward Halam.

“Halam Fiske, from Tillatia?” he asked, looking up from his paper.

“Aye, that’s correct,” Halam confirmed.

“And who will be accompanying you into the hall?” the guard asked.

“Orin Dale, Rodden Stor, and Bryn Fellows,” Halam replied.

“The guard ran his pen down the list, making a few notations, then looked up at Halam.

“Very well, sir, you may proceed.”

They passed by the guards and the other groups of men, and headed towards the doors.

“That was easy,” Rodden said as they passed the guards.

“Don’t get used to it, things will only get more difficult from here on out,” Halam replied as they got to the large double doors. The guards opened one door, and motioned for them to enter.

The room they walked into was large and rectangular
. Bryn could tell immediately why it was called ‘the map room.’ Every inch of space on the walls was covered by one map or another.

“Oh my,” Rodd
en said as they entered, his mouth falling open at the sight of so many maps crowding for space along the walls.

“When they said map room, boy, they weren’t kidding
!” Halam said, equally in awe over the overwhelming types and sizes of maps.

Many of the people who
’d entered the room before them were circling around, staring up at all the sights they’d for the most part had only heard or read about. Bryn, Halam, and Rodden unknowingly joined the clusters of people wandering the room with their heads staring upward.

There were maps of Pelios as far as the world was known.
They showed detailed descriptions of the terrains of Adjuria and Jonguria, as well as the oceans and seas that surrounded them, and were divided between the two longest walls based on country.

Several maps were devoted entirely to cities, and Bryn could see Baden, Pardun, Atros, Fadurk, Dockside, and Bargoes displayed prominently at eye level.
Further up toward the ceiling were maps of the King’s Wood, the Baltika Forest, and the Tirana Forest. Near the ceiling on the far wall opposite the entrance was a good-sized map showing The Vast, the desert which took up all of southern Oschem. Next to it was a map showing details of the entire Klamath Plain stretching the length of Adjuria. Nearby hung a map with various routes through the Montino Mountains, and another showing the same for the Barrier Mountains in Ithmia. A rather non-descript map highlighted the terrain of the Isthmus, or lack thereof, for it was rather barren and desolate, much like the stories he’d read and heard about the place. One that Bryn found particularly interesting was a map showing the full extent of The Waste, the icy tundra that covered more than half of the three northern-most provinces. Much like the two desert maps, this one was also quite empty, and Bryn could almost feel a chill creep into his bones just by looking at it.

On the other long wall were maps that Bryn had a hard time recognizing.
These were the maps of Jonguria, and except for a few of the names, they were completely unknown to him. The four great eastern cities of Fujing, Bidong, Xi’lao, and Bindao were all shown in exquisite detail. Next to them was a map showing Waigo nestled among the Xishan Mountains. The Dashao Desert was given a particularly large map, even though there were few terrain features to highlight. Another was devoted entirely to the immensity of the Bailochia Forest and close to it was another showing the wildly fluctuating terrains of northern Loajing with tundra, plains, desert, and grasslands all taking up space. A map labeled as southern Pudong showed the Shannan Mountains as well as the Shanbu Jungle. Bryn had never seen a jungle before; none existed in Adjuria, and he thought it would be quite a sight to see. A portion of the wall was given over to a group of maps which showed the five islands of Jonguria. The three largest were, Shanfeng, with its jungles and mountains; Jiebing, covered entirely with forest; and Senlin, desolate on the coasts, but forested on the interior. The two smaller islands, Yanshide and Nanbo, were given just small spaces. The three lakes of Jonguria, Pulong, Kumou, and Shuiyan, took up less area than the entirety of the Duldovian Sea, Bryn thought as he looked at the map.

The room seemed to have every map imaginable; there was even one detailing the far-off island of Desolatia, where Grandon Fray
had been exiled following the Civil War. Even the ceiling was covered with a huge map of Pelios, showing the entirety of both continents, as well as the seas and oceans.

Only after they
’d circled the room and were once again standing in front of the entrance did they feel a little foolish at being swept away by the sights of the room.

“Really quite amazing,” Rodden laughed, “I could spend all day in a room like this just staring at the maps, lost in thought.”

“Me too,” Bryn agreed, still looking with wide-eyes at all the room had to offer.

“Well, we’ll be in the room all day, but it won’t be for the purpose of staring at maps,” Halam said, his awe at the initial sight of the room now replaced with determination at the task ahead of them.