and smiled at General Gian before addressing him in Chu-Shin, the Far Western dialect most commonly spoken by merchants and officials. “If you can’t talk to us, why did your king send you?” he asked, giving a pointed glance at the man’s sword. “Was it to fight us?”
He saw a flicker of amusement in the general’s face before he grunted a response. “If I was here to fight you, I wouldn’t have bowed first. An enemy deserving of war requires neither respect nor mercy.”
It was, Vaelin knew, an old saying drawn from the works of one of the innumerable philosophers to feature in Far Western history, but not one he could name. His education in such things was far from complete.
“You speak Chu-Shin well, my lord,” Ambassador Kohn said. “We were not aware your accomplishments extended so far.”
Vaelin gave a small shrug. “My tutor tells me my accent is somewhat variable and my vocabulary still lacking. I do continue to learn, however. Every year more and more people arrive here from the lands of the Merchant Kings, seeking to discuss all manner of business. It seemed churlish not to converse in their own language.”
The man began to voice another compliment but Vaelin waved him to silence. “You, however, are too high in rank to be here on business of a purely mercantile nature, and you bring a soldier. This I find very curious.”
This kind of indirect allusion, he had learned from prior dealings with Far Western officials, was the expected when conversing with emissaries from the Merchant Realms. Simply asking, “What do you want?” would have been a considerable affront to the ambassadors’ dignity.
“My lord is as insightful as he is valiant,” Kohn said. “Although, there is in fact a commercial aspect to our mission. We are here to negotiate a purchase, but it does not concern the many riches found in these lands.”
He waved forward another member of his retinue, this one bearing an intricately engraved tubular bronze case. The man’s pose was identical to his colleague’s, crouched and eyes averted to display a level of servility even the Volarians might have balked at. He attempted to place the tube on the first step of the dais but stopped when Vaelin reached down and took it from him with a soft murmur of thanks.
The man started, eyes wide as he raised them briefly, Vaelin noting the thin scar that traced from the man’s brow to his severely combed and lacquered hair. Another warrior? he wondered as the servant quickly lowered his gaze, head bobbing as he retreated back into the ranks of the retinue. It seemed unlikely such an embassy would travel without some kind of bodyguard.
Turning his attention to the tube, Vaelin removed the ornate cap to extract the scroll within, unfurling it to reveal two carefully crafted, if somewhat fanciful drawings. At the top was a crossbow-shaped device, twice the height of a man, casting forth a torrent of bolts like a fountain. Beneath it an even-larger contraption shaped like a giant bottle spewed a thick cascade of flame onto the deck of a ship.
“I see,” he said, handing the scroll to Orven with a raised eyebrow. The North Guard commander scanned it briefly before letting out a faintly amused snort.
“We believe the rendering to be accurate,” Ambassador Kohn said.
“Your dimensions are off,” Vaelin told him, resuming his seat.
“You know these devices?” General Gian asked.
“I should. They were crafted by my own sister.”
The man exchanged a brief glance with Kohn, a doubtful frown on both their brows. Women rulers, women artificers, Vaelin thought. How strange we must seem.
“But they work as depicted?” Gian asked.
“The first is a type of ballista that can cast fifty bolts at a target in less than a minute. The second can issue a jet of fire capable of consuming any ship within seconds. Yes . . .” Vaelin’s voice faded as he recalled the many times he had held Alornis’s shuddering form after she woke from yet another nightmare. They keep asking me why, she would whisper. Even as they burn, they want to know why. It wouldn’t be so bad if they just screamed . . . “Yes, they work very well.”
He gave an apologetic smile before continuing in a brisk tone. “Good sirs, it grieves me to inform you that your journey has been wasted. By order of the Queen’s Word these devices are not for sale, at any price.”
Both ambassadors responded differently, General Gian’s blunt features bunching in a