Tetrarch

Nish bowed. 'I am Marshal Cryl-Nish Hlar; son of Scrutator Jal-Nish Hlar of Einunar Province; Envoy to General Troist.'

'You are not the first, Marshal Hlar,' said the haggard fellow, 'though you are certainly the littlest. What do you want?'

Nish was taken aback by the affront. Having been told that the Aachim were a formal species, much taken up with ritual and protocol, he had expected the formalities to take hours. Moreover, he was paralysed by the thought that he was about to make a major blunder. He could not think of the right words to say, or how to say them.

He opened his mouth and closed it again, but before he could make a complete fool of himself the woman with the curly black hair moved out from behind Vithis. She wore a scarlet blouse, black pantaloons and long black boots.

'Good day to you, Marshal Hlar,' she said. 'I am Tirior of Clan Nataz. Beside me stands Luxor of Clan Izmak. We are both of the Eleven Clans. Our leader, for the moment, is Vithis of Clan Inthis. We bid you welcome.'

'Clan Inthis, First Clan!' Vithis snapped.

There came a rebellious mutter from behind him. Others introduced themselves by their clan and given names, all being members of the Eleven Clans. At the end, a red-haired couple came forward. They were smaller of stature and paler of skin.

'I am Zea,' said the woman. 'My partner is Yrael. We represent Clan Elienor and seek news of our Aachim brethren on Santhenar.'

'Clan Elienor!' sneered Vithis. 'Least Clan, Last Clan. Not of the Eleven Clans nor ever will be.' He stepped in front of them, dismissively.

Zea moved to one side. 'We are one with the Aachim kind,' she said gently. 'All Aachim, not just the Eleven Clans, whose rivalry has ever held us back.'

Nish could see that rivalry in the body language of the leaders. Was that an advantage or a disadvantage? 'Thank you, Tirior of Clan Nataz,' he said faintly, perspiring in his uniform. 'Good day to you, Vithis of Clan Inthis and Luxor of Clan Izmak.' He bowed again. 'Thank -'

'Don't overdo it,' Ranii said out of the corner of her mouth.

'Come into the shade,' said Luxor. 'Will you take a glass of wine with us?'

Nish was prepared for this. Aachim wine was notoriously strong and he'd not had a drink in months. He might have begged for water on the grounds of a religious prohibition, which they must respect, but he'd made such a shaky start that Nish did not dare.

'I would be glad to,' he said.

Vithis grimaced, but stood back so that Nish and Ranii could follow Luxor and Tirior into the annexe of the tent. It was an enormous affair with five apexes held up by engraved poles and taut wires.

Tirior showed Nish to a chair and drew others up opposite. He tried to hide his stained boot and trousers, but was uncomfortably aware of the smell of manure. Refreshments were brought. Nish held his glass up to the light, as he knew the custom to be, and praised the colour for being as green as seawater. Vithis sneered. Evidently the comparison was infelicitous. They waited for him to take the first sip.

He did so. The wine was superb. Nish said so. Vithis smiled thinly.

Tirior chuckled. 'It is from my own estate, held by many to be the finest on all Aachan.'

'It may have been once,' grated Vithis, 'though Inthis would dispute that. But the vineyards of Izmak lie under a span and a half of ash and will never sprout again.'

'Alas, true. And so we have come to Santhenar,' said Tirior, 'to make a new life, we few to have survived the calamity. I brought cuttings of the best vines and will plant them with my own hands.'

'Where do you propose to do that?' Nish asked.

'Ah,' said Luxor. 'Wherever we are made welcome. Have you come to talk about that, Marshal Hlar.'

'I have,' said Nish, 'or at least to open a dialogue. Those with the power to negotiate concessions will follow.'

'Bah!' said Vithis. 'This little fellow isn't even the watchdog, much less the master. He's just a puppy and all he can do is piss on First Clan boots, as his horse craps on his. Go home, Marshal Hlar. If you are a marshal.'

'I am duly appointed to negotiate with you,' said Nish, signing for Ranii to pass forward his credentials. 'These are my papers.'

Vithis gave them a perfunctory glance, then tossed them on the floor. 'Any forger could have done better in a night and a day.'

Nish reached for them but Ranii shook her head. What was he supposed to do now? Pretend it had been an accident? 'My papers,' he said with an apologetic glance at Tirior. 'Would you -'

Picking them up, she handed them to Ranii, inclining her head minutely. Vithis turned his back, which Nish knew to be an even greater insult. He struggled to maintain his temper, though he must at all costs. Surely even Vithis would not attack them under the blue truce flag. Maybe this was a test. Vithis must be baiting him, to test his mettle.

'Let me be honest with you,' he said, looking to each of the three in turn.

'Meaning you weren't honest before?' said Vithis.

Nish took a deep breath. The man was impossible to deal with. 'I will put our situation plainly. We have been at war with the lyrinx for seven generations. They have hurt us badly. We have lost Meldorin and some strategic cities on the east coast.' Better not make themselves appear too weak. 'Nonetheless, we are hardened by war and will never give up. We have made many breakthroughs lately: new weapons, and means of delivering them, that will win us the war.'

'I see no sign of it,' said Vithis, facing him again.

'We will reveal our weapons in our own time,' said Nish.

'Time is what you do not have.'

'We have enough. Even so, we would be glad of your aid. With Aachim help the war could be over within a year, and then…'

'You ask for everything, yet offer nothing.'

'You invaded our world, surr!' Nish snapped. Realising that was undiplomatic, he added quickly, 'I meant that you ask for the greatest prize of all, part of our world. We are listening. Be sure that we will be generous, once -'

'In my experience, true generosity is unconditional.'

'We are honourable people, surr,' cried Nish, knowing that he was losing the struggle but not how he might recover. 'I have come in good faith.'

'That proves what a puppy you are,' growled Vithis. 'I have been reading your Histories since we came here. A more treacherous, lying and deceitful species than old humans has never existed in all the Three Worlds.'

'Surr,' said Nish, reining his temper in with the most tremendous effort, 'I beg you, consider what I have come to say.'

'I can read you like a book, Little Marshal. Old humans are weak. You are losing the war; I'd say you have already lost it. There's no benefit for First Clan – you can never deliver on your promises. You would say anything to get the aid you need so desperately. And if we did win your war for you, you would betray us. There is no gratitude in humanity, only treachery.'

'Clan Nataz have a different view,' declared Tirior, pushing forward.

Vithis held out his arm, barring her way. 'Clan Nataz do not lead. First Clan has that honour.'

'I hardly think that the lyrinx -' Nish began. His blood was boiling. He wanted to smash the fellow in the face, though it would mean his doom, blue flag or not.

'The lyrinx are beasts, but honourable ones for all that. They do not smile and make lying promises, like creeping, crawling, treacherous humanity. Go away, Little Marshal. You have nothing to offer us. Begone!'

Control yourself. Don't react to the provocation. Nish did his almighty best but suddenly his rage exploded. 'I am young, as you point out. Inexperienced too. But if I wanted lessons in treachery,' he said savagely, 'I could have come to no better place and no more experienced tutor!' Behind him Ranii sucked in her breath. His career as a diplomat was finished, but in the glorious madness of the moment, that counted for naught.

Vithis raised a clenched fist. 'How dare you come into my camp with such insults. I'll -'