not impressed.”
“You read a dozen Rikenese books at Talgam?”
“You sound surprised. Yes, I am fluent in Rikenese. I studied their language, culture, and history for years before launching this massive migration. It seemed only wise, given the magnitude of the task before me. You see, I had to save my people.”
“But you have chosen to try and save your people by destroying another civilization,” Yeel said.
“My people must be dominant in order to secure a better result for themselves. We’re now bargaining from a position of strength. If you don’t give me sufficient concessions, then I will simply destroy the city. We’re superior to the Rikenese. I’ll prove it if necessary.”
“You would destroy this marvel of a city just to prove your dominance? Set aside your ego, think of the good of your entire race before yourself. That’s what a truly greater man would do.”
“Well spoken! But it’s not a conquest born of an inflated ego,” said Methric. “There are more basic necessities at stake.”
“Oh? If this is not a conquest, then what is this army?”
“It’s a migration. I believe I already mentioned that. Our two peoples will merge.”
“It could be a peaceful merging. March your army away from Maristaple. Lay down your arms and settle the lands.”
“Ah, I wish it could be peaceful. But resources are not plentiful enough for everyone. So we must fight over them. Already my army grows hungry.”
“Think of the needless destruction—”
“I’m sure Riken culture has some wonderful aspects to it. And many of those will be preserved although many will die. Forced cultural fusion is often bloody. But our children’s children will know and follow many of the traditions of both peoples. Of course, the winner in the military conflict will have the edge in the merging. Likely that culture will be dominant.”
“Are you going to burn the library?” Yeel asked.
“Most likely, yes. Though if you give me the city, we could reach an agreement on that point.”
“But if we let you into the walls, then we no longer have any leverage. You could then burn the library and do whatever you want.”
“Well, just a moment ago, you were asking me to give up my leverage by dispersing my army.”
“What are the resources in contention? We could work together to increase the food and water production of both sides.”
“There isn’t time. And to try would simply result in fighting anyway. I have to achieve victory quickly. Then, and only then, can I spread my people out across the lands Riken used to own. Otherwise, starvation will occur.”
Time for the secondary plan.
“Do your people still worship Gragmaresh?”
“Yes, among others.”
“Well, I have called him here.”
“You?! You call for your doom?”
“Perhaps. We’ll see what he says.”
“He won’t answer you. We sacrifice our hungry children to him. We send out our warriors to smash our enemies in his name. Who are you to call upon him?”
“Well, I called him here because there’s about to be a huge battle, of course. He may wish to watch our conflict in person.”
“Then if he appeared, he would see King Methric earn his new land by martial force. He would be pleased.”
Yeel bowed.
“You may be right. I thank you for the parlay.”
“Tell your king my offer is good. Give us the city, and we won’t pursue Rikenese any further south with this massive army. I’ll settle these lands and be content.”
Yeel left the tent and switched his appearance back. The herald stood and stared at his back as he slid away. Yeel returned to the wall. The rope contraption was already being lowered, so he didn’t have to signal. Once back in the tower, Yeel met the curious eyes of Jymoor and Aruscetar.
“That did not go at all as I had planned,” Yeel said.
“What? What went wrong? Does he have a powerful mage on his side?” asked Jymoor.
“I was rather hoping he would be an unreasoning tyrant. I hoped to use his own rage and fear against him. But he’s actually quite an agreeable fellow.”
“Yeel!”
“Oh. Sorry. Well, I mean, it’s just that he’s so…reasonable. And intelligent!”
“Are you going to save us or not?” demanded Aruscetar.
“Well actually, you are,” Yeel said, pointing at Jymoor.
“What?”
“Assuming that Gragmaresh has not changed a great deal from my memory of him so many years ago, Methric will never believe that Gragmaresh has come to spare the city and sue for peace. But he might believe the god wants the confrontation resolved by a battle of champions.”
“But—”
“And Riken’s champion is you. And I don’t know who the other