Diplomatic Relations - Part 2

Part 2

The days of the coming month passed quickly, and on many of them Katernin didn't even think of the impending visit of the diplomats. There was still much to do from day to day: the repairs to the mine were ongoing, and the plans for the other engineering projects to come required frequent attention to determine the necessary materials and labor, as well as the best location. There were still frequent culture clashes and squabbles that required direct attention, and often she would be called upon to arbitrate between quarreling orcs and dwarves, where she strove to judge them in a fair and even-handed way that did not show favoritism to her own people.

These were all tasks which she was glad to have, because each of them was a measure of ongoing progress as their two societies combined into something greater than either them had been individually, their differences becoming shared strengths. But at night, she was gladder still to have Garauk at her side, welcoming her with a fresh, hot meal and warm, slender arms. She had more than she had hoped for in life, fresh and new and stretching out before her with unlimited potential.

At the council table, her parents continued to respect her suggestion to allow herself and Garauk to meet and negotiate with the diplomats. She had, after all, united the White Mountain Clan and the Shattered Blade tribe in the first place! Magrul, naturally, remained pessimistic about the long-term effectiveness of a peaceful introduction, but pledged that he would not be the first to begin hostilities. Katernin supposed, somewhat reluctantly, that the wary and cynical orc High Chief was serving an important role. If, contrary to her hopes, either the Clan of the Crystal Dragon or the Free City of Burvala was not acting in good faith, his cunning suspicions and military readiness would prove valuable.

Soon enough the day was at hand, and at mid-morning Katernin was summoned by an aide who announced that Emerald Shaman Bunai, youngest sister of Lord Jamarh Khan of the Clan of the Crystal Dragon, and Prince Leonas Duran, third son of Overlord Cheiros Duran of the Free City of Burvala, had both at once arrived to speak to them. She dressed in her finest royal gown, a shimmering dress of glistening silvery-white that left her shoulders bare and showed off her cleavage to great effect, and with Garauk at her side she made her way down the mountain to the gates of the collective village where many of the orcs and dwarves now lived together.

An orc herald made the introduction in a rich, booming voice: "Introducing Princess Katernin Ironcrown of the White Mountain Clan and her husband, Garauk Kargalish, son of High Chief Magrul Kargalish of the Shattered Blade!"

Katernin stepped forward, suddenly nervous, hoping to look both regal and friendly. She felt her foot wobble, and abruptly required intense concentration to walk in the heeled shoes that she wore for the occasion. Garauk caught her by the arm and held her gently with a soft smile, and she composed herself and came forward.

Emerald Shaman Bunai was the first to come forward. She was a slender woman of perhaps thirty, with skin as pale as porcelain dotted with freckles, a heart-shaped face with freckled cheeks and a pointy nose and chin framed by curly red hair that hung from beneath a broad-brimmed steepled hat of saffron fabric lined with fur. Her eyes were an unnatural shade of aquamarine, bright and shining in the midmorning light. She wore a fur-lined knee-length garment resembling something between a coat and a dress, rich yellow embroidered with shining green threads that seemed to shimmer and shift in the light like the plumage of a peacock. Numerous amulets and bracelets bearing well-cut, polished jewels hung from her.

"Greetings from the great Lord Jamarh Khan, loyal vassal of the Empress in the East, from across the great sea of snow and ice," Bunai said with a nod and a smile, "to both of you, Garauk and Princess Katernin. May the winter winds touch lightly upon you and your people. Word of your extraordinary union has traveled far in these past months, and Khan has sent me forth to see your society for myself. I have come hoping to find that your reputation for generosity and hospitality is true."

Prince Leonas Duran stepped forward next. He was a young man, lean and slender like Garauk, but slightly taller. His skin was a rich, natural tan, his curly hair cut short atop his head. His fetching brown eyes promised merry intrigue, and his easy smile confirmed. His features were slender and noble, his cheeks pleasantly dimpled, and his nose with a regal curve to it. He wore a thick cloak of layered furs atop a flowing white robe clasped with a golden broach, and a number of golden bracelets. Behind him, a gigantic minotaur loomed over him, over eight feet tall with light brown fur and muscles that would have made even the orc warrior Ullegh Zagroth look small. The minotaur carried a banner bearing the standard of Burvala: a tan rampant bull against a field of green dotted with golden florets.

"And greetings from Overlord Cheiros Duran of the Free City of Burvala," Leonas said. He took Katernin's hand in his own and planted a kiss on the back of it. "They tell tales of a remarkable thing here, of orcs and dwarves living together, two societies united as one, greater for their differences. But the tales of your exemplary beauty, Princess, I had dismissed as impossible fancy, for that truly must be seen to be believed."

Katernin blushed, embarrassed at such blatant and flirtatious praise in front of her husband. "Ye're both... well, we're glad to have ye here," she stammered. "Did ye... both come at once?"

"We met on the road," Leonas said, "and discussed our business here on the way. Funny how the Fates lead us! It seems that we have the good fortune of arriving together on the same day." He smiled knowingly. "I hope this will not put too great a strain on your generous hospitality." The implications could not be missed; the diplomats knew each other's business, and if the union of the White Mountain Clan and the Shattered Blade tribe could not afford to pay both tributes, their choice as to whom to pay and how much would be seen as significant.

"Of course not," Katernin said, "and we're glad to be having ye. We're still only a fledgling union compared to your own glorious societies, but our people have a bright future, and brighter still, with the friendship of yourselves."

"Khan has had the pleasure of few friendships from people such as yours," Bunai said. "It is my goal and fondest hope that after our visit he may number you among those friends." Her smile was calm, restrained, giving nothing away.

"We're inviting ye to join us for a feast tonight," Katernin said, "from the fine talents of my husband Garauk, and a stay in the luxurious royal halls of the White Mountain Clan's stronghold. But since ye've expressed some curiosity on our manner of living, would ye like me to show ye around to see how our people work and live?"

"I would find that most enlightening, Princess," Bunai said, her calm demeanor constant.

"By all means," Leonas said, "I would follow you anywhere." He glanced back at the minotaur. "You will, I hope, grant that Tremos accompany me. As is custom for a prince of the Free City of Burvala, he is my sworn guardian since our births. He is always by my side."

Katernin approached the huge minotaur, staring eye-to-eye with his belly button. She looked up his rippling, muscular body, covered in light brown fur, into his bovine face with its deep, brown eyes. Two black horns stood atop his head, thick and mighty, but sharp at the tips. "Tremos, is it?" she said. "Forgive my earlier discourtesy. As the sworn guardian of Prince Leonas, ye are certainly our honored guest as well. Though I'll advise ye of a need to duck your head some when we're in the tunnels."

Tremos, the minotaur, gave a single slow, solemn tilt of the head to her. "Thank you, Princess," he said in a deep and rich voice. His large dark brown eyes ran over her body, taking in every detail, but his expression remained neutral. She was left with the sense that the minotaur was very observant, as fit his status as a sworn guardian.

"It's also my pleasure to meet you both," Garauk said. "While Katernin accompanies you on a tour of our lands, I'll withdraw to begin our evening's feast. I look forward to rejoining you when supper time comes." He gave Katernin a quick kiss on the cheek, and she offered in return a smile with more confidence than she felt.

Despite her concerns, the tour went well. She showed them the best of their societies' industry: both dwarven miners and smiths, and orcish furriers and sculptors. They passed by, but did not dwell on, the fields of battle where veterans under the service of High Chief Magrul trained young warriors in the use of the spear, bow, and axe. She watched as they took in the athletic intensity of the young orc warriors, and the disciplined precision of the dwarf warriors, and tried to discern what they felt: were they admiring the warrior traditions of their cultures, or were they looking for weaknesses? Leonas openly admired their ability, applauding at several points, but Bunai remained calm and inscrutable throughout.

Her attempts at entertainment were less impressive. Performers from both the White Mountain Clan and Shattered Blade tribe had been practicing for this occasion. But while Leonas seemed to take some pleasure in watching a traditional orcish slam-dance set to woodwinds and percussion, he was visibly perplexed at a bracing performance by a dwarven orchestra, despite the skill of the three lead bagpipers and the accordionist. Bunai applauded politely for each, but her calm, impassive demeanor never faded, and she never offered an opinion beyond faint and neutral praise. By the time the afternoon passed into evening and they made their way to the dining hall, Katernin was acutely feeling the pressure of her distinguished and perceptive guests, and was eager to see Garauk again.

But what awaited them at the dining hall was a splendid surprise to Katernin as well. With his chosen assistants, Garauk had produced a bountiful feast the like of which had not been seen since the day of their wedding: there was rich, dark brown bread with szmalec spread; roast turkey stuffed with herb-seasoned bread; cabbage rolls stuffed with seasoned pulled pork and rice; thick egg noodles topped with grated cheese, smoked paprika, and fried onion; a medley of butter-fried vegetables amandine; baked yams in brown sugar glaze; and a butter layer cake seasoned with cinnamon, topped with chocolate cream frosting and candied cherries. Mulled wine and mead flowed into their chalices alongside water from a clear mountain stream. For a moment, even Katernin was caught up in admiring the bounty before them, and the visiting diplomats seemed likewise impressed.

"This is a feast worthy of the halls of the Empress of the East," Bunai said softly, her eyes drifting over the table full of food before settling on Garauk himself. "Of all of your industry and culture I have seen today, this stands as the pinnacle."

"Ye've outdone yourself this time, love," Katernin said to Garauk. "This is among the finest suppers I've had the privilege to see." It may have been bad form to talk up their own abilities as hosts in front of the visiting diplomats, but it was nothing less than the truth. Garauk smiled at the compliments.

"Well, I hope it's our privilege to do more than see it," Leonas said with a grin. "Forgive my conduct, Princess, but I'm most eager to begin our dinner."

Katernin took no slight in his admission; the hors d'oeuvres they had been served at midday had proven tasty but ultimately insubstantial, forcing her to concur. "Then let us be seated and served," she said, "for it's my pleasure to offer ye the bounty of the combined union of the White Mountain Clan and the Shattered Blade tribe."

They took their seats, and Bunai looked over at Katernin with a quizzical smile as Garauk's assistants served food onto the plates. "This union of your two communities, Princess," she said, "does it yet have a proper name?"

"It does not," Katernin admitted, taken somewhat aback. "We are two distinct cultures, joined together by sworn oath."

"I see," Bunai said, her mild smile unwavering. "But you are nonetheless united. Dwarves live a long time, of course, and there is no reason to doubt the honor of the White Mountain Clan. King Grennaur may yet reign for well past a century." She picked up a slice of bread smeared in szmalec, examined it, and then took a small, dainty bite. "Orcs, however, breed quickly, and the span of their generations is known to be shorter. I am unfamiliar with your custom: are orcs who are not yet born bound by the sworn oath of their parents?" Something in her calm composure led Katernin to think that she was not at all ignorant of their customs; however, this was a detail that Katernin herself had never considered during the day-to-day trivial issues of uniting their societies. She looked at Garauk helplessly.

"They are not," Garauk said. "However, they are bound to serve the High Chief if they wish to claim membership within the tribe."

"Of course," Bunai said, "High Chief Magrul, who we observed so diligently overseeing the training of the warriors of the tribe during our tour earlier today. May his reign enjoy decades of prosperity."

There was little mistaking the thrust of that comment, or its veiled expression of doubt in the stability of their society. Orcs grew to maturity and aged to decrepitude far faster than dwarves or even humans. With good fortune and circumstance, there were perhaps two decades remaining in High Chief Magrul's natural life. Katernin had often pondered the implications of this, and the implications of the fact that even Garauk would pass into old age and beyond while she was yet a young woman. It was a fact of nature for which there was no easy remedy, and it meant that the orcs and their leaders who were sworn to this union would be dead all too soon, their descendants not bound to carry it on.

Katernin took a deep breath. "To be clear," she said, "our union is yet young, and if it is to last, further social reforms are necessary. We are aware of this. But just as necessary is the faith and goodwill of friendly nations such as yours. We admire and respect your cultures, and it's our desire that we become better friends, during these early times most of all." Her formal words sounded stiff, stilted, forced, even to her ears. She blushed and stirred at her food with a fork.

Bunai's expression remained constant. "You understand, Princess," she said, with all the serenity of one making a polite statement over tea, "that yours is a union unlike any in our recorded history. Many say that we cannot know what to expect from you."

Leonas looked up from stuffing his face. "Emerald Shaman, if I may," he said, "the business of your Khan with this as-yet unnamed union is of course, his own, but as we are both here at once, the tone of this visit is relevant to both our interests, and I fear that your skepticism is not well-taken. Our hosts have been gracious by every measure; I hold every belief that they yet mean to show us a token of their friendship so that it cannot be in doubt that they are acting in good faith. Beyond that, who can see into the future?"

"Only the wise prophets of fate," Bunai said softly, but her smile was gone. Instead, she looked from Katernin to Garauk intently, carefully watching their reaction.

Katernin found this new development even more uncomfortable. Leonas was, rather baldly, shaking them down for the requested tribute at the supper table! "Prince Leonas," she said, "we are desiring to enter into an agreement of mutual friendship and equality with your great city of Burvala. Indeed, we have prepared a gift to your father, Overlord Cheiron Duran, as well as the great Lord Jamarh Khan of the Clan of the Crystal Dragon, that we trust will convey our sincerity in this desire." The words fell clumsily from her lips, like a bland recital of etiquette lessons.

Garauk abruptly cleared his throat. "You'll forgive me, Prince Leonas and Emerald Shaman Bunai," he said, "but unlike my esteemed wife I wasn't raised in the art of politesse; as a boy I was instead scorned for my preference of a cauldron and ladle over the spear and axe. Even so, I hope I speak well, if plainly: we have no interest in becoming the the vassals or tributaries of any society outside our own. You want to know our people? The orcs of the Shattered Blade are fierce warriors, swift to anger, and the dwarves of the White Mountain Clan are stubborn, proud, and unyielding. I do not doubt, if they wish it, that either Overlord Cheiron Duran or Lord Jamarh Khan could wring what treasure he may from us in blood. But it will not be handed over meekly, and I believe that we are of far greater value to you as friends than as another conquest. I only ask you to share in our belief in us."

Silence fell over the table, and a growing pit of dread grew in Katernin's stomach. She could not blame Garauk for speaking plainly; she herself was tiring of the political dance. She took a deep breath when Bunai's smile returned, slightly broader than before, and she placed one hand lightly on his wrist as the other raised her goblet and she sipped at her mead.

"You are most remarkable, Garauk," Bunai said, setting the goblet down, "but yes, it is well said. How should Khan, or the Empress in the East, consider those as equals who will not consider themselves as equals? How can we afford you more respect or greater loyalty than you show yourselves? Do not the masters counsel us: present yourselves as you would be seen?"

"It is fundamental wisdom," Garauk agreed. Katernin saw his eyes meet Bunai's, a significant glance hanging between them. Her hand never left his wrist.

Leonas chuckled. "If we're speaking plainly now," he said, "then I can tell you this much: you've got a lot of gall, Garauk. I understand you to mean that we are not to return with the tribute requested by my father's messengers?"

Katernin would not let her husband stand alone, now that he had at once cleared the air of this inconvenient admission. "Of course not," she said, looking into his eyes, "so long as we're speaking plainly."

She saw him hesitate then, saw his initial reply halt on his lips, and for a moment he looked into her eyes, and his expression was not hostile. "You are extraordinary in many ways," he murmured, seemingly as much to himself as to her. "I scarcely know whether I can trust my senses." His eyes lingered on her, his expression uncertain. His sharp-minded rejoinder was, for the moment, blunted as he looked upon her.

Katernin poured herself the remainder of the mulled wine, then drained her goblet in several swallows, thankful for her dwarven tolerance of spirits. "It appears more wine is needed," she said. She put a hand on Garauk's shoulder. "My love, would you be good enough to aid me in choosing another bottle to share with our esteemed guests?"

Garauk looked puzzled, but nodded. "Of course," he said, and he stood to go, but Katernin was already up and walking to the adjoining room where the wine was stored.

Inside, Katernin closed the door, then pulled him close, put her lips to his ear, and whispered. "This is hanging in the balance," she said, "and I'm thinking if we win these two, we win their papa and big brother and the whole deal's on. And I see them fawning on us with some kind of lovestruck fascination, and... my love, tell me true, were ye serious about what ye told me a month ago?"

"What was that?" Garauk said. He smiled winningly. "Was that when I swore my undying love to you yet again? Because if it was, I assure you-"

"Be serious, ye damned orc!" Katernin hissed. "Ye talked of seducing these two, and as it happens, ye're the only one to have seen a flicker from the eastern lass, and the prince can't take his eyes off my udders in this low-cut dress. So as your wife, and as the other person I can trust with an interest in making this damned thing work, I'm asking ye: is this a thing we're considering?"

Garauk paused, stroking his chin. "I'd say no," he said, "if it was just a question of enjoying ourselves, because there's nobody I'd rather do that with than you. I'd also say no if we were acting independently of each other, because I don't know if I could take that. But if you're proposing that we work together at this to... bring them closer, and win their personal affections as friends and lovers... then I suppose I am, at least, intrigued, and I cannot rule it out."

"Ye're my one and only love," Katernin said, "and ye always will be. But as we're serving our combined societies, and as we're both agreeable, I say we're not ruling anything out yet." She paused. "If it goes to a place that makes ye uncomfortable, show me a sign, and it's stopping immediately."

"Agreed," Garauk said, "and the same to you." He knelt down and gave her a gentle kiss upon the lips. "I love you, my darling."

"I love ye also, and always will," Katernin said, feeling warmth in her core from more than the wine, "with all my heart."

"And to answer your question, this," Garauk said, choosing a bottle of dark, rich red from the wine rack, "should go best with our meal." He held it up with a shrug. "It'd be rather suspicious if we returned without the wine after all this, wouldn't it?"

Garauk and Katernin returned to a different mood at the table; the tension was gone, and as the wine continued to flow they talked at first of trivialities: current events, the weather, and shared amusing childhood anecdotes of no consequence. Leonas seemed sincere and eager to converse; he was gregarious at heart, even if he was on a mission as a hard-driven diplomat. Yet more than a few times, he seemed awkwardly at a momentary loss for words after a significant look from Katernin, and his eyes studied her carefully in a way that went beyond admiring how she filled out her regal dress.

Beside her, Garauk slowly drew Bunai out of her shell, laughing and smiling, returning her touches upon the wrist, and her pale cheeks flushed with color as she sipped at her mead. Soon she was laughing softly, sharing dry jokes and making conversation about herself, and speaking in intricate riddles for which Garauk more often than not seemed to have an answer. As the night drew on, she seemed less like a diplomat and more like an ordinary woman, and her eyes lingered on Garauk, drinking in the warmth that he offered.

Dinner was long finished, and the first few chimes of the great clock in the room went unnoticed, but when it signaled midnight, Leonas's eyes were drawn upwards to the hands pointing upwards. "Garauk," he said, "and Princess," and his his eyes fell upon Katernin and settled there, "it has been truly delightful to share this meal and the pleasure of your company, but I must consider retiring at this hour. Can you show me to a humble place where I may rest without being any further concern?"

"Indeed," Bunai said, visibly stifling a yawn, "I must also move to conclude this visit, delightful as it has been." She was facing the clock, but her eyes were looking warmly at Garauk.

"Ye're welcome to any of the finest rooms in the stronghold," Katernin said, looking straight at Leonas, "but the finest of all is the royal chambers, and... ye'd be welcome there, if it's to your liking."

Leonas blinked. "You are asking me... back to the royal chambers?" he asked, dumbfounded. "Is this... an imposition?" His eyes drifted to Garauk, then back to Katernin.

"Of course not," Garauk said, "though I would not dream of showing the esteemed Clan of the Crystal Dragon, nor its hauntingly beautiful emissary, any less respect than the Free City of Burvala. If it is your will, Emerald Shaman Bunai, I would be honored for your company."

This was it. Tension hung in the air, and Katernin shivered as she was swept with a brief vision of one or both diplomats denouncing them as degenerates, storming out of the room amidst angry promises to inform their lords of this insult. Leonas glanced back at Tremos, and Bunai stared into one of the many jeweled pendants she wore.

"The honor is mine," Bunai said, so softly that it was nearly a whisper. Her cheeks were red as she stood from her chair.

Leonas cleared his throat. "Of course, Princess Katernin," he said, "as your guest, I am your humble servant. Show me where you would like me to go."

Katernin fixed him with a sultry grin. "I'll show ye, all right," she said.

Continued in Part 3

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