Chapter 32
It quickly came back to Asva why she avoided these gatherings. The other representatives tended to be fools, imbeciles or foolish drunk imbeciles. Or guild representatives – they called themselves advisors. She could practically see them pulling the strings of one idiot or another. No wonder these meetings never resulted in much. It was decided elsewhere, by those who really ruled.
Having a job to do, she made the best of it, forcing herself to laugh at Gjal's jokes as he tried to impress her. She assumed they were intended as jokes anyway, and he didn't seem discouraged by her response.
Around her height, his weak chin and portly girth gave a poor impression of the crown prince of Vorek. The rumour that – as heir to the horse-rearing capital – he couldn't stay in the saddle if a horse went above a trot did little to improve his standing.
'Dadfnir?' he said, louder than she'd have liked. 'Really?'
'It's the rumour I heard,' she said.
'Where would they have found arvinim?'
'In the ground, one would presume,' said Asva, immediately chastising herself for the slip.
He took a moment before laughing. Maybe a bit too forced. 'Yes, very good. You really think they have this alternative supply of arvinim?'
'Well somebody does,' she shrugged. 'It's not you, is it?'
He laughed again, more naturally. 'Oh, how I wish it were.'
She believed him. That could just mean he was unaware of it. If she were running something like that, she'd make sure this idiot knew nothing.
'I'm afraid all we have is our gorgeous countryside, and horses.' The latter was said with distaste, included as part of their national identity expected to be highlighted. 'You must visit again soon. Olvari would love to see you, I'm sure.'
The last time she'd seen Olvari she’d have been around five, and he'd have been three. She had no recollection of him and barely remembered Vorek, that being the only time she'd visited.
He went on again about what a fine man his son had become, and how glorious Vorek was at this time of year. She tried a few times to broach the subject of why guilds advisors were allowed to attend, but Gjal's conversation inevitable returned to his son or country.
When his advisor joined them, Asva excused herself as politely as possible. She retreated to the balcony for air. Given Gjal's dislike of heights he'd be unlikely to follow.
She had to admit this height was a bit much, and she stayed back from the edge. The island of Vorin was composed primarily of slopes. It was said that if you found yourself stepping on a flat surface here, you'd better be able to swim. Its city – conveniently also called Vorin – stretched up from the port below – the land-bound edge of which she'd have to get closer to the balcony to see – up to the royal palace they currently occupied, and back inland for a mile or so where it finally surrendered to the rugged landscape.
There were small settlements inland, which supported the mining efforts providing the country's exports. Commonplace metals and a few precious stones. No arvinim. The Society’s role in mining meant they very nearly owned the island.
Her eyes swept over the floating town, makeshift buildings tied together to expand the lower level of the city. They had to be kept clear of the docks, which stretched out a bit, yet within the walls that sheltered them from dangerous waves. As it was they'd nearly run out of space.
'I hear you're looking for a husband,' said a too-familiar voice. Hleinar joined her. His insufferable smile – probably alcohol-suffused – greeted her as he leaned on the balcony with a casualness that made her wince.
'I'm not,' she said in a tone of strained diplomacy.
One of the younger princes of Sinnir, they had – being of an age – played together as children. She'd grown weary of him in their teens, when he'd started transforming into the wastrel before her.
'Odd, the rumour circulating seems most insistent on the matter.' His grin remained.
Had he been responsible for the rumour? Either to cause a scene or for his own amusement? No, he wouldn't have been the one to tell her if so. Could it have been the advisors? No, it might hamper her plans but that wasn't their way of doing business. She could think of only one person who would do this.
'It was my brother, wasn't it?' He probably considered it a joke.
'It would be an unconscionable breach of etiquette for me to admit such a thing but yes, it was. He let it be known that that was the reason for your presence. Please don't break my heart and tell me he was lying.'
'Try pressing your suit I'll break more than your heart,' she said. Speaking diplomatically only encouraged him, and she didn't feel like doing so at the moment. Her brother had probably blocked anything she could hope to achieve here, not that she had much hope. Those attending were already beholden to the guilds.
'Ah, well,' said Hleinar. 'I suppose it was too much to hope for. I did suspect your presence would be more to do with the circulating rumours regarding the alternative source of arvinim.'
'Are there rumours?' she asked.
'If one knows how to listen, one can even deduce their source.' He tilted his head toward her. 'They seem conflicted over the source of the metal, as though someone dangled a few lines to see which caught a bite. Nothing yet, I assume?'
'That would seem a safe assumption. I suppose you'll also deny knowing the source?'
'Unfortunately I may even be sincere in doing so.'
'I'm not sure I'd recognise sincerity in you.'
'My brows get heavier,' he demonstrated.
'So that was the pained expression I saw on your face earlier.'
'No, that would have been the realization that the rumours of your courting are a cruel lie.'
'You needn't concern yourself over such rumours, Hleinar,' she said. 'They'll never involve you.'
'Ouch. Oh well, I suppose I'll have to hold out for some other form of entertainment from this affair. I still have hopes of your assaulting one of the advisors before this thing is done.'
'Even yours?'
'Oh, please do.' He took another deep swig of his drink, and Asva was afraid he might tip back too far. He caught himself before he went, glancing behind him. He made no move to find a less precarious perch. 'You're lucky you don't have to put up with them watching your every move.' He raised his glass vaguely to someone in the main reception area.
'You don't appreciate their sage advice?'
'Grasping little parasites,' he said, his voice gaining a bitter edge. 'Never let them get a hold on your land.'
'I don't intend to.'
'The crown has been turned to a thing of pure responsibility with no power. They control the things that affect business, and expect us to deal with the mundane, day-to-day affairs. We've become slaves in our own lands.'
She started to feel a pang of sympathy, edged with fear for her own future.
'If you don't want to be associated with them you should probably leave,' said Hleinar. 'Or at least sleep aboard ship, out in the bay.'
'Why?'
'I've heard rumours they're relocating some of the locals.'
She stared at him, open-mouthed. Had he said what she thought he'd said? She must have misunderstood. 'What?'
'They've developed glyphs to help with the mining. It means more locals left without work following some mines tapping out. The Society decided these people are a useful resource which could be better employed building ships or something over in Culvik.'
'They're moving them out of their homes?' She had trouble getting her mind around the idea, and had no idea why. She should have expected something like this.
'The people are apparently being wasted where they are. I think they consider them a drain on Vorin’s resources.'
That made a perverse kind of sense. The Society probably had more control here than anywhere other than Volthus. If they felt the number of people without a role in society threatened business, they'd want them moved, preferably somewhere they could be of use.
It was twisted, w
rong and completely beyond her power to alter. Shutting her country's borders to the outside world didn't seem enough. The enemy was too big.