Chapter 18
Vorik walked around the cave, distributing the last of the goodies from Syla’s bag.
Particularly popular were brown discs of a creamy sweet substance with dried cranberries embedded in it.
The kids kept rearranging their positions in the cave to pretend like he hadn’t yet given them anything, and some had managed to snag three or four treats.
Since Vorik was distracted by watching the chiefs talking in the back, as well as newly arrived tribal leaders walking into the camp, he barely noticed.
“You aren’t going to be able to bribe people to change their votes on plans for the future,” Jhiton said as Vorik passed near him.
“I know.” Vorik pressed another dried apricot into his brother’s hand.
Jhiton’s eyes narrowed, and Vorik expected him to reject it—if not pelt him with it. Instead, Jhiton growled and put it in his mouth.
“Sweets do have a lot of allure though,” Vorik murmured.
“All the tribal leaders who are able to come have done so or sent proxies to vote for them as we decide future events,” Chieftess Marvola said. She’d assumed the role of spokesperson with Shi gone.
A group had gone out to retrieve Shi’s body for a funeral pyre, but nobody had suggested a delay to the meeting or the voting. People wanted a resolution regarding the war and their future, one way or another.
With his sack empty, Vorik headed to the back of the cave. Maybe he should have reserved more sweets to offer the chiefs. A few of them, including Marvola, had appeared in the line to claim some personally. Tenilor and the rest had sneered with contempt.
Wish me luck, Agrevlari, Vorik thought, sensing his dragon ally remained near the bluff.
You’ll need a talented tongue, not luck.
I do have that, though less when it applies to talking and more to… other activities.
Sexual acts?
Never mind.
Vorik followed the chiefs as they headed through the tunnel at the back of the cave.
At first, he thought they might want to hold the meeting around the lake where the kraken had appeared when Syla had been present, but they turned into the very nook where Jhiton had questioned her.
It wasn’t spacious, but it was divided from the main cave and private, with enough room for a couple dozen people.
Regardless, Agrevlari said, you’ll need to use your tongue to sway those chiefs, and you might want to do it quickly.
Several dragons have arrived from the Island of Eliok.
None spoke directly to me, but not everyone was pinpoint with their telepathy, and I caught a few words.
They spoke of your queen reaching the island with a wrapped sphere that is thought to be a new shielder artifact.
The dragons mentioned believing they had the backing of the storm god but nonetheless lost allies to the death launcher.
They are irritated anew with its presence in this world.
Understandable. Even if Vorik was glad it sounded like Syla had survived an encounter with more dragons, he couldn’t help but wish he’d managed to destroy the awful weapons platform.
It was too powerful—too deadly to dragons—to exist in the world.
Syla’s aunt must have been able to complete the shielder she was working on.
Yes. The dragons have some faith that the storm god won’t allow her to place it on the island, but they didn’t stay to watch the attempt, not after losing comrades. Also, they felt it important to update the chiefs and their dragon allies before your tribal meeting.
Vorik grimaced. That news might sway some people who’d been borderline on which way to vote.
They’re talking figuratively about having the backing of the storm god, right? A sinking sensation took over Vorik’s stomach as he remembered those clouds. They’re not expecting a god to show up there, are they?
That is unclear to me.
Any chance that you can make it clear? Do a little more spying?
Dragons lack the furtive and secretive nature of spies.
Just plop down in the middle of their gathering and buff your scales.
Someone brushed Vorik from behind. He’d paused a few steps into the nook, thinking he was the last of the chiefs, but Jhiton and General Amalia were joining the group.
She saluted him with a half-eaten sweet.
Jhiton didn’t do or say anything to Vorik, simply stepping inside and leaning against the wall.
His wound had to be making him miserable, and Vorik wished he could suggest that he lie down, but even if that was wise and a healer advised it, Jhiton never would.
Chief Tenilor stepped into the middle of the nook, as if he would take charge. Vorik didn’t want that and stepped forward, smiling and bowing to everyone present.
“Mind if I say something before we begin? As a new chief, I’d like to greet everyone and make my position clear.”
“Oh, we know your position,” Tenilor said. “Directly under the Garden Kingdom queen.”
“Actually, I prefer to be on top. From the beginning, that was the plan, after all.” Vorik extended a hand toward Jhiton, but his brother’s frosty don’t-include-me-in-your-scheme look didn’t suggest he would provide backup.
“You killed Chieftess Shi,” Tenilor said, rudely refusing to ask for details on the plan.
“No,” Marvola said. “She killed herself. I was looking down when she chose to throw that knife at him and lost her grip. You can’t blame Vorik for that.”
“He’s the one who challenged her!”
“Which is his right to do.”
“He betrayed our people and his own blood brother,” Tenilor said. “He has no rights. Shi was about to exile him.”
“Let me speak.” Vorik lifted his arms. “I have a plan for the future, one that will feed all of our people and let us end this war without losing more of our kin. When I’m done, if you decide it’s all nonsense and not worth listening to, I’ll stop arguing and go along with whatever the combined tribes decide is best.”
“The combined tribes want you to leave,” Tenilor said. “Or to die.”
“I want to hear his plan,” General Amalia said. She sounded weary, like she might not have slept since before the Bogberry Island invasion.
How many people had she lost there, Vorik wondered.
Since he’d been gone, he didn’t know what the death tally had been, but Agrevlari’s description of the whirlpool in the lake sucking boats under had made it sound devastating.
And he’d seen for himself what had happened in the mine, with the Kingdom soldiers not letting his people climb out after the flooding began.
“I do too,” Marvola said.
“Imagine that,” Tenilor grumbled at the chieftess. “You’ve got whatever bribe was in that jar staining your tunic.”
“I told you they’d all consider it a bribe,” Jhiton murmured.
“A promise of what the future can hold,” Vorik said, speaking loudly enough for everyone to hear.
Though he wore a sullen expression, Tenilor fell silent.
“When General Jhiton tasked me with seducing then-Princess Syla,” Vorik said, “he sought to learn the locations of the shielders, but I realized right away that Syla had the mettle needed to lead her people and would inevitably become the queen that her blood—and the gods—destined her to be. Unlike some of her predecessors, she’s not a warrior, nor was she trained as a diplomat, but, as a healer, she has heart and is willing to work to help all people, not only her own. ”
Vorik hoped nobody present had yet figured out that flooding the mine had been Syla’s idea, or they would scoff. He hurried on so that they wouldn’t have time to think too much about his claims.
“I was a poor choice for the general’s mission, since I wasn’t able to wheedle much information out of her, but I did manage to charm her, just a bit.
” He smiled and tried to look self-deprecating as he held up his thumb and index finger with little space between.
“We’ve spoken together of a possible future that would benefit our people without disturbing hers further.
She has suggested that she might be open to giving our tribes territory of our own within the Kingdom, on lands that currently are wild and belong only to the crown.
Of course, we would have to promise to cease the war and that there would be no further hostilities from stormers.
We would essentially have to be good neighbors, but we wouldn’t be under Kingdom rule, and we could come and go as we pleased, enjoying the protection of the shields when we want it and hunting and foraging on the wild lands there.
Our dragon allies wouldn’t be able to fly through the barriers, but we could construct floating docks anchored to the sea floor outside of them and kayak in and out to meet them whenever we wished to hunt together.
And we could bring them offerings of the fine meats that we might acquire within the Kingdom.
For those of you who’ve enjoyed the jams and nut spreads, I’m sure the gardeners could be enticed to share recipes or even trade their goods with our people. ”
“Oh, well,” Tenilor said, “if they’re sharing recipes, then of course we’ll end the war.”
A few people snorted. Maybe it was only in Vorik’s imagination that others looked wistful. Marvola did look wistful. That wasn’t Vorik’s imagination. And, surprisingly, nobody had scoffed at the idea that he could charm a woman.
Jhiton was wearing his masked expression. Nothing wistful there.
“My point is,” Vorik said, “that this is an alternative to an eternal war that we probably won’t win. Also, I am in a position to help us negotiate for it.”
“Our latest intelligence,” General Amalia said, “is that a usurper has taken the throne and is claiming that Queen Syla is dead.”