The Jongurian Mission (18 page)

Tullin moved to stand behind Jossen Fray as he introduced the delegate seated next to Halam.

“From the high impenetrable reaches of Adjuria comes our next delegate, Whent Auro of Montino.”

Whent took his time getting up, and Bryn could see why.
The man had to be in his late-sixties judging by the wrinkles around his eyes and forehead. He was remarkably slim for his age, of medium height, and still possessed a full head of rich grey hair. His small green eyes looked tired, and his round mouth and nose were obscured by the beard that covered much of his face. Whent’s thick wool coat matched the color of his hair, trimmed with some type of fur Bryn didn’t recognize. On his belt was a dagger with the seal of Montino, an ice-capped mountain.

No sooner did Whent stand up than he sat back down, and Tullin moved further down
the opposite side of the table, causing Bryn’s excitement to rise; his uncle was the next delegate to be introduced!

“From the verdant hills and fields of Tillatia comes our next delegate,” Tullin intoned in his deep voice, “Halam Fiske.”

The clapping that accompanied Halam’s name was quite loud, and even the delegates seated across the table from him seemed to have a favorable opinion of
the delegate from Tillatia. Bryn looked down the table to see what Jossen Fray’s reaction was, but the man showed no sign of any problems and clapped along with the rest.

Halam rose and gave a few short bows to the delegates seated around the table and to the men seated behind him.
He met Bryn’s eyes and gave a small smile before turning around and resuming his seat.

Tullin was now standing directly across the table from where Bryn was seated behind Halam.

“From the verdant hills and fields of Fallownia,” he said with a smile as a few chuckles could be heard around the hall, “Millen Fron.”

“Millen stood to the smattering of applause, turning in a circle to nod to all assembled in the room. Looking to be in his early-forties, Millen had short brown hair, a large mouth and nose, and penetrating green eyes. He had a small beard which covered only his chin. His breaches were light grey, as was his cotton coat which he wore over a beige cotton shirt. Unlike many of the other delegates, Millen didn’t have a weapon at his belt, and Bryn couldn’t detect the seal of Fallownia, which he knew to be a wavy field of grain.

There were only two delegates left to introduce, and Tullin wasted no time in getting to them.

“From the southern-most province of Adjuria comes our next delegate, Edgyn Thron of Portinia,”
his voice rang out loudly.

Edgyn seemed to be in his late-fifties and wore sailor’s pants of light brown with a loose-fitting white shirt.
Like Jocko before him, Edgyn was quick to smile, and his white teeth gleamed out at the others in the hall as he turned in each direction, bowing to all. His hair was dark and combed back over his head, but without the overabundance of oil Bryn had seen some of the other men wear. He had a small nose and his large mouth was framed by a dark goatee. A simple cutlass hung from his belt, and nowhere on his simple attire could Bryn find the seal of Portinia, a ship anchored at dock. When the clapping subsided, Edgyn sat back down and Tullin once again stood at the end of the table near the king.

“And last but certainly not least, from the Barrier Mountains that protect Adjuria, comes the delegate from Ithmia, Palen Biln,” Tullin intoned.

The man that Tullin introduced was tall and looked serious as he stood, neither waving or bowing to the room, nor turning completely for those behind to get a good look at him.
Bryn judged him to be in his early-fifties, and from his vantage he could tell that Palen had short-cropped blonde hair and was clean shaven. His face was rather gaunt with a small nose and mouth, and deep-set grey eyes. He looked to be the type of man who smiled little and expected those around him to do the same. Bryn could tell from pictures he had seen in books that Palen wore the garrison uniform of Fadurk; dark-brown leather pants and coat, with a light green heavy woolen shirt underneath, and the insignia of Ithmia prominently displayed on the breast, a single castle tower on yellow sand, water on each side. A longsword, so different from the weapons the other delegates carried in that it was neither elegant nor ornate, hung from his belt. It looked to Bryn to be a sword that had seen battle, unlike the ceremonial blades that many in the hall carried. The clapping for Palen was the loudest heard yet, and continued on for a few moments after he’d resumed his seat.

With the lengthy process of introducing all of the delegates now complete, some restless chatter began to be heard in the room.
Tullin paid it no mind as he walked over to stand next to the king.

“And now, esteemed guests, let me introduce one final member of our conference, the King of Adjuria, Rowan Waldon.”

All in the room stood to applaud the king, who rose from his chair to give a few quick bows to those at the table, before motioning for everyone to resume their seats.

“Esteemed guests,” he said to the people in the room, his deep voice ringing around the hall, “I thank you for coming to Baden for this conference.
Some of you have traveled very far to be with us here, while others have come from nearby. Many of you had to leave your work in the fields or the mines of your provinces, while nearly all of you had to depart from your families.”

He paused, and Bryn saw that some of the people in the room were nodding their assent
at his words.

“It is my sincere wish,” the king continued, “that we can complete our business here in a swift, yet thorough
, manner, so that you may return to your duties as soon as possible. I know that this is a great inconvenience for many of you, but rest assured that it’s of the utmost necessity to your country that we decide here over the coming days a substantial trade policy with Jonguria. It has been ten years now since the East-West War has ended, and twenty since trade between the two countries flourished. The fortunes of all of Adjuria have diminished with the absence of trade, and we are here now to put the matter right. I urge you to keep in mind the many small families, hard-working shop owners, and the many folks toiling day-in and day-out in the fields and mines, lakes and rivers, and mountains and oceans of Adjuria. For them, let us put aside whatever differences we might have, and work toward the common purpose of making the lives of all Adjurians better through our actions here in this hall.”

He took his seat to the vigorous applause of those in the room.
All seemed impressed with his words, and while Bryn had a hard time imagining a man barely older than himself sitting in the tall chair at the head of the table as being king. After hearing his words, however, Bryn had no doubt that he was qualified for the position he held.

The room erupted in chatter as the delegates resumed their seats, and Orin leaned over to Rodden and Bryn.

“He may not look it, but that young man has what it takes to be a king,” he said, a large smile on his face.

“Yes, it’s one thing to see him,” Rodden agreed, “and quite another to hear him talk.”

“Let
’s hope that the hall heeds his advice and works toward a common policy that everyone can agree on,” Orin said. “While I’ve no doubt there’re some here that’d like to prolong this conference as long as possible so as live off the hospitality of the palace for as long as possible, it would in no way serve the interests of Adjuria. No, what we need is quick action and a sound policy.”

“Yes,” Rodden said, “and let us not forget that we’ve still got to present that policy to Jonguria
and have them agree with it, if anything we do here is to have any significance.”

TEN

The talk of trade echoed off the map room walls as the morning progressed.
The delegates rose one-after-another to present their province’s needs and wants in regard to trade. The presentations were civil and the reception courteous. It seemed as though the delegates had taken the king’s speech to heart, and that the conference wouldn’t degenerate into a giant shouting match as many had predicted. The problems and prospects of Culdovia and Portinia were heard, and it seemed whatever worries the delegates may have entertained had proven baseless. This notion was quickly dispelled, however, when Jocko More was given the chance to highlight the needs and desires of Shefflin.

“We all know how important Shefflin steel is to the world economy,” Jocko said as he walked around the table.
“Before the war it was one of the most lucrative products that Adjuria exported, and the demand was always high. Unlike many of the other provinces’ products, the steel of Shefflin cannot be produced in Jonguria. Its uses are many; the forging of weapons, the production of tools, support beams for construction, and the list goes on. I think many of you know that it’s one of, if not
the
most, important resources that our nation possesses, and it’s my belief that it’ll be the driving force in opening trade once again.”

He finished and returned to his seat amidst a cacophonous amount of disapproval from most of the advisors and many of the delegates.

Tullin began to rise to ask for comments as he
’d done after the other delegates had spoken, but wasn’t half-way out of his chair when Iago Cryst began to speak loudly from his end of the table.

“If it’s weapons you
’re talking about, Jocko, then all of Adjuria knows that the best are made in Mercentia. Yes, we use Shefflin steel, but many other types of steels as well.”

He began to pace about the room to the sound of encouraging voices from those who agreed with him.

“In the
twenty years that Jonguria has been without our resources, don’t you think she’s found other materials to fill the gap left by the absence of our goods? Sure, Shefflin steel has its uses, and no one can deny that it
is
a far superior metal than can be found anywhere else on Pelios, but if Jonguria has done without it for so long, what makes you think they’re so eager to have it back?

H
e finished and headed back to his chair to the scattered applause of those in agreement.

“The same could be said for the weapons of Mercentia,” Jossen Fray said as he rose from his chair.
“How many of our countrymen were killed with Mercentian weapons during the war with Jonguria? Do we really need to supply them with more so that they can do it again?” He leaned on his chair for support as the men seated around him murmured their approval. “I’d much rather see Shefflin steel sent across the sea as opposed to weapons which we may one day regret.”

“That is nonsense
!” Iago said, rising from his chair before Jossen had a chance to sit down. “You talk as if they’re still our enemy. Well, they are not. And a sword can be used for many things besides battle; for hunting, or used for training in military schools, or for simple ornamentation.”

“
Ha
!” Jossen laughed. “Do you really believe your own words Iago? By your slow tone I think even you have a hard time believing the drivel spilling from your mouth.”

Many in the hall laughed at Joss
en’s rebuke while Iago sat down, his face red with anger, which caused his white scars to become all the more evident. It was not an auspicious turn for the conference to take so early in the morning. As the laughter died down and no one charged out of their seat to challenge the words of the two further, Tullin had a chance to stand and address the hall.

“Gentleman, gentleman,” he said in a conciliatory tone, his arms spread out before him.
“Let us not descend to the level of children squabbling in the schoolyard. Let us remember the words of our king and speak to one another civilly and with respect.” He paused for a few moments to look over the delegates as a father would look at a group of misbehaving children. “Now let us continue. Millen Fron, would you like to illuminate for us the troubles facing Fallownia?”

A little taken aback that he would be chosen to speak next, Millen was slow to get up, but once standing seemed to find his bearings.

“His majesty spoke of old animosities earlier this morning,” Millen began, his hands on the back of his chair as he looked at the delegates seated around the table.
“He wisely warned us not bring those up, but I’ve a feeling that many of us have already forgotten his words, or perhaps had no intention of heeding them altogether. It is no secret that the only product which my province trades in is grain. Or that our only competition in this regard is the province far to the north of us, Tillatia,” he said, holding his arm out toward Halam.

“In the past, Tillatia
was always able to get a better deal than us because of their closer proximity to Jonguria, which made it cheaper and faster for them to send their excess grain across the sea. We Fallownians had to work very hard to create lucrative deals for ourselves with the Jongurians, and our profits could in no way be compared to those which Tillatia enjoyed.” Millen moved away from his chair and began to walk around the table. “Many Fallownians came to regard Tillatia as the enemy, and we had a lot of animosity toward them. Why?” He looked to the room before continuing. “Because of some fluke of geography that put them in a better position to trade than us? Aye, that’s one reason, and not one we could do much about, I’ll add. No, gentleman, I think the main reason that we didn’t like the Tillatians was because there were no regulations in place that allowed us to trade with Jonguria on as equal a footing as Tillatia. That’s something that we need to address in this conference. Instead of arguing back and forth about past wrongs, let us set up a new system that will ensure those wrongs are not committed again. I propose that we have a system in place similar to that of Jonguria, with the provinces dealing with the royal government in Culdovia, much like the Jongurians defer to their imperial officials. We all get a fair price for our goods, and then the government can take over the task of negotiating the deals with Jonguria.”