He sat concealed behind a screen in the rear of the chamber. Two Classani secretaries were with him, as well as a small writing desk, several newly-cut pens, and a ream of paper.
There was another, larger screen placed near the front of the chamber, placed behind where Hamila sat on his stool to receive Tastis’ emissaries. The screen naturally attracted the eye, and if the heralds had an assassin among them he would strike first for the larger screen, thinking Tegestu would be behind it — at least that was Tegestu’s hope. The spear of parley meant little in a matter of angu, and Tastis had always had an impetuous streak. It paid, Tegestu thought, to take precautions against anything an enemy was prepared to do.
Hamila adjusted his position on the stool and cleared his throat, then nodded to the guards placed on the doors. The doors swung open, and Tastis’ embassy entered.
There were long moments of formality in which the herald and Hamila proclaimed their name and lineage and presented their credentials, and then the real business of the meeting got underway.
“It is possible,” Tastis’ herald said, “that the negotiations currently under way between the aldran of Neda and the emissaries of the Elva may not bear fruit. My lord Tastis hopes that an embassy to bro-demmin Tegestu and his aldran may be blessed with greater success.”
Tegestu sucked in his breath. Aiau, he thought. The talks must have collapsed entirely; the man had virtually admitted it. Tastis had no choice but to approach Tegestu and hope for an alliance.
How he must have had to swallow his pride for that! To approach the man who tricked him out of a city and then hacked off the heads of two of his welldrani.
Unless, he thought cautiously, this itself was a trick. To lure Tegestu into negotiations, perhaps, and then reveal the fact to Necias, hoping to force Necias to declare Tegestu outlaw, thereby gaining an ally without the need for concessions. Tegestu frowned. He would have to think about that.
Hamila spoke:
“Ban-demmini,” he said, “for what purposes to you wish to approach my lord Tegestu?”
“To explore the possibility of uniting our quarreling race under a single banner,” the herald replied. “To explore the possibility of eventually establishing a sovereign nation for the Brodaini on this continent.”
“My lord Tegestu,” Hamila said, “will concede that the latter is desirable. We consent to the negotiations.” Excellent, Hamila! Tegestu thought with grim satisfaction. Keep them in their place.
“My lord Tastis has a condition for the negotiations,” the herald said. “He feels that, to guarantee the sincerity of the talks, there should be an exchange of hostages.”
To keep me from chopping up any more emissaries, Tegestu smiled to himself; Tastis should have thought of that before, instead of being so greedy as to leap at my occupation of Calacas.
“On what level, ban-demmin emissary?” Hamila asked.
“The highest. My lord Tastis is prepared to offer his son, Aptan Tepesta Laches y’Pranoth, and two others.”
“Their names?”
The herald gave them. Tegestu recognized them as highly-placed members of important kamlissi in Tastis’ coalition, and one was a welldran. And of course, Aptan, the laughing young man of immature tolhostu who had met him at the ford of the West Rallandas. None of them were individuals Tastis would throw away lightly: even if he were inclined to sacrifice his son, which Tegestu doubted, the loss of the other two would alienate two of his most powerful clans.
“My lord Tastis,” the herald continues, “intends they should be exchanged for hostages of equal rank and position.”
“I will have to speak to my lord Tegestu before I can give an answer,” Hamila said.
“Do not concern yourself with us, ban-demmin Hamila,” the herald said. “We will be happy to wait.”
Tegestu grinned at the herald’s irony, then took a pen and wrote HOSTAGES AGREED — DETAILS LATER on a piece of paper, then handed it to one of his Classani. The young woman took it, bowed hastily, and slipped out the back door, presumably where the heralds would not see her. Once outside she would run around the corner, down the corridor, and emerge through a door behind the large screen in the front of the chamber. She would then slow her approach, creep out, and apologetically hand Hamila his instructions, giving all along the illusion that Tegestu was hiding himself behind the large screen at the front of the room.
“I hope, ban-demmini, that you will enjoy your tea,” Hamila was saying, “It is bro-demmin Tegestu’s special blend.”
“The aroma is most pleasant.”
Hamila was delaying until his instructions appeared. Tegestu, paying little attention, furrowed his brow and scratched his chin as his mind sped swiftly from one implication to another. The talks between Tastis and the Elva had failed, at least for the present. That put not only Tastis in a bad position, but also Necias, for Necias had lost much demmin — or cimmersan, which seemed to be demmin as the Abessla imperfectly understood it — first from allowing Tegestu to occupy Calacas against his will, secondly by failing to negotiate an end to the war before the arrival of the other Elva forces.
Was Necias as desperate as Tastis? Tegestu wondered suddenly. Would Tegestu be able to move himself into the role he desired most, a broker between Necias and Tastis?
How could he put pressure on Necias? And, if Necias finally cracked on the issue of sovereignty, what could he give the Elva in exchange?
“Ban-demmini,” Hamila was saying, “I believe my lord Tegestu will agree on the exchange of hostages. But we must have some time to be able to choose hostages of suitable stature to match your own. I beg your indulgence on the matter.’’
“I understand,” said the herald, “the need for consultation.”
“I hope, ban-demmin emissary,” Hamila said, “that you will favor me with an understanding of your lord Tastis’ proposals for achieving his aims, so that I may have the honor of presenting them to my lord Tegestu as soon as possible.”
“My lord Tastis’ proposals are simple,” the herald said. “Unification of our two aldrani. An appeal to the Brodaini elsewhere in the Elva to come to our assistance. An effort made to break the siege of Neda-Calacas before autumn.”
“The unification of the aldrani would indicate the choice of a new drandor,” Hamila said. “Has bro-demmin Tastis reached any decision on his choice for the honor?”
Tegestu, feeling a laugh exploding inside him, tried his best to stifle it. Tears leaked from his eyes. Hamila’s question reached, perhaps not tactfully, to the heart of a potential dilemma: who would lead any unified Brodaini, Tastis or Tegestu?
There was a shocked silence from the heralds’ spokesman. “That will be a decision of the united aldran,” he said finally, his tone flat.
Hamila began questioning the heralds concerning the details of Tastis’ offer, the implementation of any unification of the Brodaini forces. Tegestu listened only with half his attention, concentrating meanwhile on his tactics. Necias, he thought, was vulnerable politically: how best to exploit it?
The talks had collapsed, he repeated to himself. Tastis can get no peace with the Elva, not on terms he’s willing to accept. Necias will have to resort to military force to make any point, and that will mean uniting the Elva command under his choice of leader, which would be Palastinas. But would the others agree? The ambassadors, he thought, must be going madly from one tent to another, trying to reach a united position.
Except, he thought, for Fiona. Fiona’s job of neutral observer was over.
With a start he realized that she could play a part in this, as a neutral observer in the talks. That, he thought gleefully, would serve to put pressure on Necias, letting him know of the existence of negotiations between the Brodaini factions and putting that much more pressure on him to create a peace.