Orphan At The Edge Of The World 28 Oew 27

Orison beamed, "It is, venerable... And may I say that the revitalizing cream has been able to improve nothing on a face that nature has made flawless. I apologize for attempting to ply my meager alchemy skills against perfection. I am chastised and humbled for my foolish hubris."

The prime speaker barely avoided running a finger across her noticeably less baggy eyes and smiled in spite of her intentions. "This isn't the time for empty flattery, young legate. We need to understand the reasons for your actions against the merchant and its ramifications in our dealings."

Orison bowed and said, "It would be my pleasure to explain as best I can for the venerable who makes even the most strenuous of these unfortunate but necessary meetings tolerable to me. The merchant in question is a well known power player who bought his patrician status with money and favors. I, nor any in this room, has anything to lose for a man sent to fish in troubled waters to be swatted down before he had a chance to bite anyone's tender spots. A sufficiently humble and sincere merchant can be expected on time with more goods to trade as regularly scheduled.

"Since all of the honored venerables here have had an opportunity to read through mine and my mother's reports on this matter, then I can only a.s.sume the worry comes from a point Captain Nadir has raised in his that this a.s.sembly may feel wasn't sufficiently addressed in ours. Please allow me the opportunity to address that concern directly so as to save this great a.s.sembly's valuable time."

Token inquiry addressed, the Progressive prime speaker and her cohort had nothing else to say on the matter. In Orison's mind, that could be because of their faith in him, who had bent over backwards to validate their initial friendly overtures or that their Centerland spies had already a.s.sured them that anything amiss would not be Obsidian Isle's problem to deal with. Contrary to Nub's evaluation of them, the Progressive camp was better informed about Centerland matters than any other group on the Greenland sized island.

Upon being gestured to by Elder Fvaris, The Revivalist prime speaker said, "On this matter, we have nothing of import to add aside from keep up the good work. Perhaps you may be able to redeem the laid to rest crime of slaughtering our people in Whiteriver's territory."

Smile slipping substantially, Orison rejoined, "Why, we are practically unwitting allies there. Had we but known of our mutual interests such an unfortunate tragedy could have been avoided entirely. For your a.s.sistance with the murder of House Riven's malcontents I retroactively dedicate my inheritance donation, to the families of my honor band that became collateral damage in that incident, in the name of the Revivalist faction. I do hope you enjoyed the outcome of the legate you were trying to kill and his erstwhile paramour House Riven's patriarch. Such a coincidence, is it not? Of course, I claim no involvement as it was ruled a ritual suicide between two disgraced men. Long may your land and blood remain free of foreign taint, venerable."

The prime speaker's gnarly and grim face cracked a rictus smile as he said, "Young Cantrip, you may be one of the only foreigners I don't want to kill. You are your own people's worst enemy. I can't wait to hear of your trail of destruction through Centerland before they finally put you down."

Orison replied, "Venerable's words honor me too much. May your revered corpse continue to serve your family's needs after the long sleep claims you, as whole or in parts it may be."

Elder Fvaris clapped her hands once to end further retort and spoke. "You already know what I wish to hear, Orison. Consequences make themselves apparent with the pa.s.sing of time, which I expect you to address of your own accord without prompting. What I give you a chance for is to vocalize what benefits have or will be obtained by us to offset them."

Orison bowed again to the Fvaris elder and said, "For the initial, half the total goods delivered where offered to New Fvaris at market value to make first pick before being disseminated into the surrounding area at same rate. The merchant would not have been a third as generous aside from essential foodstuffs and seeds. Not only did this grant a significant reduction in antic.i.p.ated cost, it forced the other subsidiary merchants to offer better pricing compet.i.tively.

"Disruption to consulate work may have only affected New Fvaris in minor ways but the number of minor ways it did so could have been staggering as a whole. Since that's only speculation, I'll leave it at that. This first delivery was of paramount importance and well did the patricians who backed this enterprise know this. Ensuring that the next merchant who comes doesn't disrupt order and treads lightly may not seem like much of a benefit but you know as well as I that instead of trying to haggle like a housewife at the street vendors, they'll be trying to gain favor over compet.i.tors and therefore offer better prices since the momentum has been lost."

Elder Fvaris said, "The whole reason for the temporary truce was so that we could hold reputable trade status long enough to get what we needed. Your actions seem contrary to the honorable dowager's goals. Explain to us how this incident affects those goals and how your continued protection doesn't endanger them."

Ignoring the return of the Revivalist speaker's rictus grin, Orison spoke leisurely, "The amount of goods that you received exceeded minimum expectations but that was only half of them. The other half is being held as reward for the fastest merchant arrival with a matching or higher amount of desired trade goods in value. That a.s.sures not only more expedient filling of your submitted wish list, it also insures compet.i.tion and compet.i.tion means lower costs.

"You would know better than I what would happen if I were to die or the consulate was attacked. Merchants can overlook death but once a deal is broken, you really would have to worry about reputation and my death would signal a free for all on those stored goods... I've entertained this, honored venerables but I haven't heard, not once in any of these meetings anything other than how I may serve you better or provide you with benefits. I weary of providing without anything to show for my efforts. Even a slave gets the good will of his master when he earns merit. Aside from the lovely G.o.ddess of mercy to my right, who has my grat.i.tude and admiration for all time, the benefits your dowager has extended to me have ran their course. In crude vernacular, ladies and gentleman, put up or shut up."

The Revivalist speaker jumped to his feet and bellowed, "If not for the dowager, you would be dead or in a collar right now, child! You put your nose where you're told and grind it if you want to live long enough to get your piece of land stolen from us."

Orison bellowed back, "If not for the dowager I wouldn't p*ss on you to put out a fire! Your lesson is canceled indefinitely. Beg your knowledge from Fvaris like you should have from the beginning, ingrate!"

The meeting devolved to chaos that the Fvaris elder could no longer contain. Fortunately for her, she didn't have to. A moment before the Revivalist speaker would have rushed past the Progressive speaker to escalate argument into magic battle with Orison, a loud screech of metal on slate preceded a thunderous boom that shook the building and knocked fine dust from its ribs.

Dowager Fvaris came tapping her way into the room with her black metal tipped cane. "Everyone, sit down and stop all this useless squawking. Not you, girl. I'll not be standing. You may stand beside me and attend."

The dowager took her time to get comfortable in the Fvaris chair and gave everyone a cold gaze before locking her dead, black holes trapped in gla.s.s on Orison. "Was a small holiday not enough recovery time to replenish your patience or do you have something to add worthy enough for me to hear, boy."

As if his earlier emotional outbursts were a lie, Orison didn't even blink as he squared off stares with the dowager. "Granny Xia, you knew as well as I did that as soon as there was nothing of note to be gained, the Revivalists would start trying ways to squeeze me for more. What I didn't expect was that your grandniece would as well. Instead of tolerating until a better time to address our cooperation moving forward, why not open it now. It seems a fortuitous day to do so as a far more important meeting is being gathered to the north, is it not?"

Shocked surprise, joined the vitriol dripping from the Revivalist speaker's face as the old Fvaris matron said, "Enough of matters that do not concern any in this room, including myself. Cut to the chase and tell me what you're wanting and why we should give it to you, little monster."

Orison said, "It's not about what I want. It's about what I'm not getting, that I was promised. My aid was supposed to buy me a smooth wall behind my back so I could leverage weight against manipulators in Centerland. All I'm seeing is an iron maiden waiting for me to be pushed into it... When I killed that malcontent, I pushed on the benefits to you. It was far in excess of what would be considered reasonable for your support. Cheaper goods and more to be delivered quicker, also cheaper than you had any reason to expect, is your payout.

"I did it this way, without prior discussion because that's the way Fvaris likes things done. Results. Now, I didn't expect accolades or grat.i.tude but I did expect that, having honored our deal and payed in advance for little more than not having teeth bared at me from both sides, I would get a seal of satisfaction from Fvaris."

Dowager Fvaris spoke quietly with her grandniece before turning to Orison and said, "Half of what you said on our supposed benefits is mere speculation but I won't have my clan playing Centerland games behind my back when it was my reputation used to broker our deal. Until the bitter outweighs the sweet by two to one in our favor, this will NOT happen again. Be warned, little monster. My scales are exacting but I do not lie when I close a deal."

With a speed and viciousness that made jest her apparent fragility, the dowager cracked her grandniece in the head with her cane then said, "And I will not tolerate my clan attempting to turn my words into lies behind my back. If you do not want your sister taking your place in this chair next year, your performance will be exemplary... Speaker of the Right, I have no sway in your clan but I have your ancestor's regard. If I have to spend that regard to have you replaced, I will. Speaker of the Left, your actions are only correct out of coincidence but it will count against prior ill advised actions... Anything to add, Orison?"

Knocked out of sympathetic musing over the Fvaris elder's bleeding head and dull eyed acceptance of brutality, speaking years of heavy-handedness, Orison replied, "I'd like permission to spend tomorrow touring the deeper bay for potential suggestions on it's use since I won't be teaching the Speaker of the Right's clan directly. If allowed, I'll write up a report of findings for you after I return to the consulate. It doesn't sit well coming so close to perfectly completing a task only to stop at the last step but I refuse to subject myself to that much loss of face. This is the best compromise I can come to."

The dowager crisply responded, "Granted... I see another point of contention about dealings with a werewolf on the docket but this will be waived as I only see a healer doing what a healer must to be respected. Their kind are only tolerated at northern ports and only for as long as official business permits. If you should see her before we capture her or any other such opportunities present themselves, pa.s.s on that message."

Suppressing a cold sweat, Orison replied, "Of course, Granny Xia."

After the meeting was dismissed, Orison requested to speak with the Revivalist prime speaker. Angry and annoyed but also curious, the speaker relented.

Taking out a velum, Orison drew out a crude map from memory of the west beach area and explained, "I was originally going to leave this for the consulate as it's knowledge isn't worth anything to me because the fruit of this benefit will take time but..."

Orison explained the location, maturity cycle and care of the tubular plants that were the main ingredient for persistent breath potions.

Orison then went on to say, "It's only our misfortune to have the consulate built on land technically to be under your control in the future. Consider this an offering to take the sting out of our bad blood and to keep our war to one of words across the table instead of under it or arrows in the dark."

Reluctantly, the speaker nodded and said, "I don't like you and I never will but I'll keep to the truce. I'll make sure the other clan does as well but afterwards all cooperation is over."

Orison said, "You don't have to like me. I think I'd be repulsed at the kind of sick m.a.s.o.c.h.i.s.t I'd have to be to earn your regard. We can, not go out of our way to step on each other's toes... I don't want to be here almost as much as you don't want me here. Lets see how fast both of us can be satisfied on that issue. I'm open to constructive opinions on that whenever you discover one."

With an amused expression that came across as sneering disdain, the speaker said, "None that you'd want to hear at this time but I'll contemplate it... I feel compelled to ask. Did you actually have anything to do with that legate's death?"

Orison smiled deviously and said, "I only spoke a thought once, other's were inclined to listen... The answer to anyone else asking me that question will forever be no."

The speaker said softly, "When the day comes that I am able to wipe that accursed blight of a consulate off the face of this island, if you and yours are still in it, I'll buy your clan a head start and a few sloppy first volleys."

Seeing the genuine sadness and impotent rage on the face of his erstwhile tormentor, out of whim, Orison leaned in close and whispered, "I humiliated him in front of Whiteriver himself, even his centurion captain didn't stop me... Returning home with his career in tatters, he was caught like wild prey. He was bled to near death, then poisoned. Even his soul wasn't spared. He died bereft of everything and dishonored after that."

The old man let out a cackling laugh that held hints of hatred fueled madness and said as he walked away, "A beautiful bedtime story. Perhaps I may yet sleep well tonight."

Making his way back to the quarters provided to his group as slowly as he could, Orison went over the meeting in his mind. There were parts that could have went better but since the squeeze session was only a matter of time, he believed lancing the boil early was better than waiting. The part that still bothered him was the duration of the truce.

In theory, the truce should last a little over two years but could become significantly less if the obsidian elves found a way to stabilize sooner. He set in his mind that the next goal was to get the person wanting to claim a senior legate position sitting in the hot seat as soon as possible. Since an emissary position was ripe for the taking, Orison held little doubt that his small family was due for a change of address very soon.

Absorbed in thought, the person closing in from behind went unnoticed. The sound of a dull, metallic thud registered confusion in Orison's suddenly foggy mind as he turned around to see what made it. Jelly legged and blurry eyed, he looked at the fuzzy silhouette before him as if to ask them what was happening. The darkening figure reached towards him, producing the same sound again but accompanied by a bright flash in his vision before he lost sight and consciousness.