Blood of Empire

Chapter 44

Vlora was inspecting the evening camp, preparing to retire early and get some rest, when Bo approached her at a brisk walk, his pipe hanging out of the corner of his mouth and his prosthetic squeaking loudly. She lifted an eyebrow at him as he fell in beside her. “Evening.”

“Evening,” he replied, taking her by the arm. “The first of Delia’s emissaries has returned – with company.”

“Shit. This soon? It’s only been two days.”

“Three days.”

“Who is it?”

“General Etepali.”

“Herself?”

“Yup.”

Vlora let out a string of curses. “I thought Etepali was still burying bodies back at the Cape of New Adopest.”

“Turns out she’s been following us about ten miles back.”

“Of course she has. She’s here already?”

“The first of Delia’s little summits,” Bo confirmed. “Started five minutes ago in Delia’s tent.”

Vlora changed directions, nearly losing her grip on her sword and falling flat on her face. She recovered thanks to Bo’s arm and began heading toward the corner of the camp where Delia’s High Provosts had pitched their tents. Bo went along with her in silence, with Norrine trailing along behind them.

As they approached the edge of camp, Bo asked, “Do you expect to be present at every one of Delia’s meetings?”

“Haven’t decided yet.”

“She’s not going to like that.”

“I don’t care. Besides, I want her on her toes. I don’t trust her worth shit, and…” Vlora fell silent as she maneuvered around a couple of campfires and approached a large tent marked with the emblem of the High Provosts. A handful of Dynize officers and their bodyguards milled outside the tent with an equal number of provosts. The provosts shuffled into Vlora’s path as she approached.

“Sorry, ma’am, this summit is for the special envoy and her guests only,” one of them said.

“Move.”

“Sorry, ma’am, I –”

Vlora cut him off in a quiet voice. “Lay a hand on me and I’ll make sure that your bodies are never found. Move.”

The lead provost cleared his throat, looked at his companions, then stepped aside.

“Thank you,” she said to him sweetly. “Borbador, why don’t you keep these gentlemen entertained?” Loosening herself from Bo’s arm, she swept inside the tent.

There were only four people inside: Delia, Valeer, Etepali, and one of Etepali’s senior officers. The group seemed like they had only recently seated themselves, and they looked up in surprise as Vlora entered. Delia’s eyes narrowed slightly and Valeer looked openly indignant. “Lady Flint –” he began.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Vlora cut him off. She looked around for a fifth chair, found one in the corner of the tent, and dragged it over to the group before falling gratefully into it. “Evening inspections take a long time, you know?”

The glares from her two political “allies” were unmistakable, and Vlora saw the cool look that Etepali gave all three of them. She wondered, briefly, if this had been a mistake. Even a fool could feel the tension between the Adrans, and Etepali was no fool. She was probably already trying to figure out how to exploit this internal rift. None of this showed on her face, of course, and she raised a glass to Vlora. “My dear Lady Flint. It’s so good to see you. Has your health been improving?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Excellent. I’m very pleased to hear that.”

“I must confess, I didn’t expect you to catch up with us so quickly,” Vlora said.

Etepali’s companion scowled, but Etepali herself just smiled pleasantly. “There were a lot of bodies to bury, of course, but there is still a war on. I left some of my auxiliaries to take care of the cleanup.”

“Still hoping to drink that bottle of spirits?”

“I’ll carry it with me until we have the chance to share it.” Whatever effect the Midnight Massacre had had on the morale of the Dynize, it didn’t seem to have touched Etepali. Vlora felt her own smile slipping, so she turned back to Delia.

“Sorry, Delia. Don’t let me interrupt. I’m just here to observe the peace talks.”

A pregnant pause hung in the room before Delia reached across the table beside her and shuffled a pile of papers and notes. She cleared her throat, gaze lingering on Vlora, before turning to Etepali. “As I was saying before Lady Flint arrived, I want to thank you so much for answering my request for a meeting.”

“Of course,” Etepali responded, swirling the liquid in her glass. “I’ve only just become acquainted with Adran liquor, but I find myself enamored. I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

Delia blinked back at the old woman for a moment. “Yes, well. I’d like to lay out the initial plan to bring the Adran theater of this war to a close.”

“So soon?” Etepali seemed surprised. “You’ve only just arrived.”

“Indeed we have, but our purpose here is not to wage war. It is, rather, to make sure that Adran interests in this part of the world are upheld.”

Etepali leaned forward. “I’m sorry. What, exactly, are Adran interests in this part of the world? I understood that you don’t actually own any of Fatrasta anymore.”

“We don’t,” Delia replied with a tight smile. “But we do have a trade alliance with Fatrasta – one that has been disrupted badly by your capture of so many Fatrastan cities.”

“I wasn’t aware that a trade alliance with Adro warranted such a heavy response. A whole field army, just over some trade routes! My heavens, I’m certain that the Great Ka would have rethought the entire invasion if he had an inkling that a Kressian nation would intercede on behalf of the Fatrastans.”

Vlora couldn’t quite tell whether Etepali was being sarcastic or not. She spoke in that tone that so many old women are able to master – part condescending, part sincere, part baffled. Vlora watched Delia carefully to see how she’d respond.

Delia shuffled her papers again. “We’re not, strictly, intervening on behalf of the Fatrastans.”

“Oh?” Etepali exclaimed. Definitely sarcasm.

“This is about the so-called godstones,” Delia said.

“I see. Well, I wouldn’t know anything about those.”

“You wouldn’t?” Delia asked in surprise.

“I know about them,” Etepali admitted. “But I don’t have any orders to deal with them in any capacity. In fact, I don’t actually have any orders to deal with you, either. My last order from the Great Ka was to capture the city of New Adopest. By all rights, I should have headed right back there the moment Lady Flint left us behind her to clean up the Midnight Massacre.”

“So why aren’t you?” Vlora spoke up.

“I’m a general,” Etepali replied. “I may follow orders, but I can also take some initiative. I’ve deemed an Adran field army to be of greater importance than a small coastal city.”

Delia frowned at Etepali. “When you say that you don’t have orders…”

“To deal with you? I should have said, rather, that I don’t have any authority to deal with you.” Etepali shrugged. “I have absolutely no political autonomy. None of us generals do, unless we’re accompanied by one of the Great Ka’s adjuncts.”

Delia became visibly deflated, while Valeer scowled at both Etepali and Vlora. “Do you mean,” Delia asked, “that this is a waste of time?”

“I’m afraid so,” Etepali said, draining the last drop from her cup and leaning forward to pat Delia on the knee. “It’s nothing personal, of course. You and your friend here seem very lovely. And General Flint, of course, though I should probably be bitter about her maneuver back there on the Cape.” She got up and walked over to a small table in the corner, where she poured herself another glass.

“I have a question that I believe you can answer,” Vlora said, taking advantage of Delia’s befuddlement to interject. “My soldiers have been coming across empty towns. According to the survivors, a Dynize army has been murdering Kressians and kidnapping Palo. What do you know of that?”

Etepali’s composure was broken, if only for a moment. She covered for herself by taking a sip from her glass. “Nothing.”

“You’re certain?” Vlora asked.

“Certain. As I said, every army has different orders.” Etepali shrugged.

Silence blanketed the room. Etepali’s officer and Provost Marshal Valeer stared at each other. Delia glared at the papers in her lap. Etepali drank her second, then third glass. Vlora tried to watch everyone at once.

Finally, Etepali gave a tiny, happy burp and set her glass down. “Well now. I’m afraid I’m not much use to you. You’ll have to wait for your emissaries to return from Landfall. Thank you so much for the drink, though. Have a good evening!” With a wave, Etepali was joined by her officer and left the room. Within a few minutes, her group had departed, judging from the sounds outside, leaving Delia’s tent silent.

Vlora cleaned her nails on her jacket. “Don’t take it too badly,” she said to Delia. “She did the same thing to me out on the Cape. I’m pretty sure she initiates these meetings just to find out the character of her enemies.”

Delia remained quiet for a few moments before her head jerked up. “You are not authorized to be here,” she snapped.

Vlora pretended to be surprised by the outburst. “I’m the commanding officer of this army. I am authorized to be anywhere I want.”

“And I’m the head of the Adran special envoy! I –”

“Don’t,” Vlora warned. “You won’t win this argument. It’s been fifty years since a commanding officer has been subordinate to a special envoy, and there’s nothing in Adran law that changes that. You’re welcome to make overtures, and you’re welcome to try and stop this war. But my word here is still final. Strategic necessity trumps political maneuvering.”

“You’re saying that as if you can do whatever you want,” Delia accused.

“No, I’m not,” Vlora said flatly. “You’re here now, there’s nothing I can do about that. I’ll let you do your job. But I have to be allowed to do all of mine – and one of those is making sure that you don’t endanger the lives of my soldiers in the course of your negotiations.”

“Do you expect to stand over my shoulder throughout all of this?”

“I certainly hope not. I don’t have the energy.” Vlora wished she could take more pleasure in Delia’s anger. And she did take a little, to be sure. But she also knew that this was but a momentary setback for Delia. Within the next few weeks, she’d make proper contact with Ka-Sedial, and when that happened, Vlora couldn’t be certain how the wind would blow. She stood up, giving a small bow to Valeer and Delia. “I want to suggest something.”

“What?” The word came from Delia in a half snarl.

“I want to suggest we put aside our differences and work through this conflict. This expedition could be used to greatly enhance Adran wealth and prestige.”

Delia became very still, regarding Vlora suspiciously.

Vlora took this as an opportunity to continue. “We’ve landed a field army in the middle of a conflict. We’re greatly outnumbered, but we have the best-armed and best-trained troops on the continent. We can use our position to leverage concessions out of both Fatrasta and Dynize. Money, trade, even land. The Fatrastans are on the back foot. The Dynize are overextended. A skilled politician should be able to exploit that. Barter a peace, and break off a chunk for Adro in the process. Pit, if we can do that before any of the rest of the Nine is forced to get involved to protect their interests in this hemisphere, we might even be lauded as heroes.”

Vlora could see the gears turning in Delia’s head. Her suspicion slowly faded, replaced with a haughty coldness. She regarded Vlora with pursed lips. “I’ll take it under advisement.”

Haughty coldness was about the best Vlora could hope to expect out of Delia. “Of course. Thank you. And in the future, if you’ll give me some warning, then either I or my representative will be on time for these meetings. And I might be able to share information with you that keeps you from wasting your time.”

Delia gave her a tight nod. Vlora took it as a sign that it was time to leave. She made her good-byes and slipped out, where she found Bo surrounded by provosts. The whole group burst into laughter as she headed toward them. She pried him from their midst and, still shadowed by Norrine, they headed back toward her tent. “What was that all about?” she asked.

“I was telling jokes,” Bo said.

“By Adom.” Vlora sighed.

“Oh, come on. Even you find the one about the Kressian priest and the Warden a little funny.”

She rolled her eyes. “The summit was a no-go. Etepali drank Delia’s liquor and then told her that she had no authority to negotiate.”

“I can’t help but wonder what her angle is,” Bo said.

“Etepali? I think she’s crafty and bored. Regardless, Delia was furious, but I did manage to plant a seed in her head.”

“Oh?”

“Suggesting we can work together to use this expedition to enrich Adro.”

“Think she’ll go for it?”

“Maybe. I’m just trying to keep her distracted. Whatever happens, I’m not leaving this continent without the second godstone and, hopefully, Sedial’s head.”

“Oh, good,” Bo said cheerily, producing his enormous pipe from within his jacket. He tapped it out on his wrist, added new tobacco, then slipped on one of his gloves and twitched a finger. The pipe began to smoke immediately and he gave her a grin. “This will be fun.”