Chapter 6
They diplomatic façade remained until the Alliance envoy had gone, leaving the three of them alone the audience chamber.
Asva glared at her brother, which Horolf met squarely.
'I suppose we're lucky you weren't armed,' he said.
'Lucky for whom?' she asked.
'You do understand the meaning of diplomacy, don't you?'
'Yes, and I'm fairly sure grovelling to a merchant isn't involved.'
His lips tensed, but he didn't get the chance to respond as their father intruded.
'Enough. Asva, you were close to being rude to our guest.' King Hjarg stared disapprovingly at her, and she fought to hold her tongue. 'That's almost as bad as obsequiousness,' his gaze shifted to her brother, who started to respond before thinking better of it.
'You know my feelings on the matter,' he continued. 'They haven't changed.'
'Father,' said Horolf. 'There's no reason not to entertain negotiations on some smaller points.'
'There are plenty of reasons,' Asva said, only to be cut off by a sharp gesture from her father.
'I've had enough for the moment,' he said. She noticed the strain starting to show. His leg hurt again, from sitting there so long. 'We shall discuss this over dinner, after you've both had time to calm down. That means I want you to leave in different directions and not speak until tempers have cooled. Am I clear?'
'Yes, father,' they replied in unison.
She curtsied to her father before turning to leave, and proceeded out the side door. A glance saw her brother head for the main door.
Time to calm down would be good, provided she could find something to help her forget the meeting, which she doubted. The heavy rain outside meant she'd be unlikely to find peace there. She headed instead towards her quarters.
Gadgmir had one of the rare patches of flat ground in central Irnskyl, but even there they had to build up rather than out. This was helped by the amount of stone nearby. They had more stone buildings than any other city, and the tallest.
The royal palace was composed of a series of interconnecting buildings. The main one served as seat of governance for the country, taken up mainly by the bureaucracy. The smaller buildings were connected to the main one by elevated walkways, and were home to the royal family.
She had a smaller building for herself and her staff, fortunately on the opposite side from her brother. Given their disagreements had started around the time they'd been assigned residences, she'd wondered whether that had been a consideration. With her brother to be married in a couple of moons, he'd probably move to one of the larger buildings.
Not that housing arrangements offered much distraction at the moment. She knew the Alliance's influence, not far behind that of the Society, had been on the rise since before she'd been born. Still, she couldn't help feel their influence in Irnskyl was at a critical point.
The country's primary asset was the largest known deposits of arvinim, likely the only reason neither guild had moved as strongly here as in other countries. With the Society allegedly acquiring a new source of the metal, the Alliance saw an opportunity – or even a necessity – to push their suit for greater trade with Irnskyl.
While she saw some benefit to dealing with them, the only future down that path was following the other countries in becoming a vassal to the merchants. The other countries retained their governance in name, and were allowed control over the boring bits of rule in which their masters had no interest. But they were no longer truly kingdoms. While she didn't want that for Irnskyl, she couldn't see a way of avoiding it.
As she approached her apartments she was met by her aide, Illanmund. His face was pinched with irritation.
'Your highness,' he said as he awaited her. 'Your guest has arrived. I've had him escorted to your receiving room.'
The distaste in his voice said who he meant, and she felt a surge of anticipation. While she may not share her aide's affront at her guest's presence, she didn't trust him. But if he’d acquired what he'd promised, he could prove useful.
She continued with a determined stride, Illanmund falling into step behind and to the side.
'I'll meet with him alone,' she said.
'Your highness,' said Illanmund. 'Is that wise?'
'It's what I shall be doing.'
'Yes, your highness,' he said, falling behind. She had little doubt he'd be nearby during the meeting. While he wouldn't eavesdrop, he'd feel it his duty to be near enough to hear her call out in distress, as he no doubt expected her to dismiss the guards.
She made a quick survey of her appearance. Her pale blue dress had suffered little creasing during the meeting. Not that she expected her guest to care, but she did. She pushed her long black hair back over her shoulder as she went.
She took time fixing her face. Imperial and commanding wouldn't work on him, but suppressing her anxieties was essential.
The guard stood aside from the open door as she approached, and she entered to find Thjorn sitting at ease in an armchair, staring absently out the window. A pair of guards stood behind him.
Thjorn rose – not so fast as to alarm the guards – and offered a polite bow.
She inclined her head in response, before turning to the guards. 'Close the door after you.'
There was barely a moment's hesitation before they did as commanded.
'You didn't bother sneaking in this time?' she said.
He shrugged. 'I was expected. No point flustering the guards unless necessary. Would you rather I'd entered more surreptitiously? It's not as though I wasn't discreet.'
'No, I'm merely surprised.' She sat. 'I heard one of the Society's shipments suffered an accident.'
'I heard something about that. Presumably the quality of their staff.' Reaching inside his jacket, he pulled out a dark silver bar and placed it on the small table between them.
Chiding herself for the flurry of concern she'd felt as he'd reached in his jacket, she hid her frown as she reached for the bar. As though it would tell her anything.
'It is arvinim,' said Thjorn, and she didn't doubt him. She'd have it examined anyway. Its existence was enough to confirm the rumours of the Society’s other source. She turned the bar in her hands, looking for even the smallest mark.
'No markings or other outward signs of its origin,' said Thjorn. 'Nothing on the crates either.'
Replacing the bar, Asva rose and walked over to a cabinet. Withdrawing a book and folded piece of cloth, she placed them next to the bar. Thjorn took them.
'You know the royal family's personal flag in your possession could see you arrested?'
'Yes,' he said vacantly as he flipped delicately through the book, handling it with care. He seemed disinclined to expand on what he wanted the flag for, and she didn't care. It was purely ceremonial these days, and rarely used.
'The book is a copy, made a century or so ago. The original is apparently too fragile to be moved. Will that be a problem?'
'No. The knowledge inside is what I require, not the object itself.'
'So you learnt nothing useful about where the shipment came from? Nothing about the ship?'
He closed the book, laying it on the table. 'No. It was held in a busy warehouse. Well-guarded and well-used. I doubt it'd been there more than a few days, although getting close enough to gauge their internal security level would have run too much risk of alerting them. There were a number of ships which could have carried the cargo. Given the secrecy, I'd imagine they’d only be an intermediary.'
He took a piece of paper from a pocket and laid it next to the bar. 'This is a list of the most likely ships, should you wish to investigate further. You'd have more resources than I.'
She glanced at the paper. 'Thank you.' While she agreed it probably wouldn't lead anywhere, finding the source of the alternative supply could be important. Either the metal had been stolen from Irnskyl's mines, in which case they needed to find out how and stop it, or someone else had discovered a substantial seam of the met
al. More problematic, they’d be better placed to make plans once they knew where.
Of course she had just taken receipt of stolen goods, which could cause a serious incident if it got out.
She regarded Thjorn with a steady gaze, which he met. 'Did you just steal the one?' she asked.
'No. But one or two missing is pretty much the same. As long as there's no more than a handful they could assume they're lost in the mud. Given the value, they'll likely continue looking, but by the time they’re sure the bars had been taken, any trail will have gone cold.'
He seemed confident, as he had when he'd first approached her with the proposition. She'd had her people learn enough about him to reach the opinion he was capable at what he did. And that he seemed to share her dislike of the guilds.
A troublemaker since his early teens, he’d escalated from mischief to vandalism to espionage and sabotage – the latter two only according to reliable rumours – always directed against the guilds. His openly flaunting his status as a glyphpunk was unusual in both its audacity and the fact he was never caught doing anything they could convict him of, not without fabricating proof. But everything her people had found indicated he was more than competent, and reliable.
Given Irnskyl’s predicament, his offer had been enough to overcome her reservations. It didn’t erase her concerns, though.
'Is the other for personal use, or for selling?' she asked.
'Given its value, selling would draw far too much attention. Especially something this clean.'
The value of the metal meant only the guilds could afford to buy it from Irnskyl. The metal available on the street would be dirtier, having been scraped off the rare stolen items and melted down. Its sheen was less vibrant after use, the burning from the glyphs leaving scars.
'Don't worry,' he said. 'I won't get caught with it and lead back to you.'
'I’m sure you won’t.'
Not that there’d be much to link them other than his word. The book had been acquired through trusted intermediaries, and the flag could be written off as stolen. She’d been careful to avoid not just the known guild spies, but anyone of whose loyalty she wasn’t convinced.
'Would you satisfy my curiosity on something?' she asked.
'I’m at your disposal,' said Thjorn.
'Considering your reputed skill at glyphs, why aren’t you a member of one of the guilds?'
'Why don’t you deal with them?'
While Asva disliked his abruptness, she had to admit his direct manner was welcome. 'I have the wellbeing of my kingdom to consider. In the long term, dealing too closely with the guilds leads to being consumed by them.'
'And I have the wellbeing of glyphs to consider,' said Thjorn. 'The guilds do not own them, no matter how they try and codify it in law. Ideas cannot be regulated. Saying who can have certain ideas based on which guild they belong to, and how far they can go with their experiments, is ridiculous. They’re stifling innovation.'
'You’d rather no control over glyphs?'
'I’m not so naïve as to believe their use will ever be free of control' said Thjorn. 'And given many of the practitioners, that’s probably wise. But I don’t want the guilds controlling who can do what. Or your lot, for that matter. No offence.'
'My lot?'
'The monarchies.'
'You believe we would be equally oppressive?' asked Asva. She wasn’t offended by the implication. If they did depose the guilds from power – as unlikely a scenario as that seemed – she could imagine many countries would clamp down hard on glyphmasons, to avoid them taking power again.
'Look at history. After the First Ones left there was admittedly little innovation in glyphs, mainly because no one knew what to do with their guides gone. But slowly – and unconnected to one another for the most part – individuals began developing new glyphs, mainly by coming to understand them. As these individuals interacted the knowledge grew, not in any controlled or directed manner, but naturally as their calling took them. And as glyphs evolved through this interaction, the tribes began to interact more.'
'With glyphs being the foundation of civilisation,' said Asva. 'Yes, that part of the Society’s dogma I wouldn’t dispute. Although...'
'Not my point, but true,' said Thjorn.
Asva held her irritation at him interrupting, and let him continue.
'The thing is that the tribes – without the First Ones to curb their natural tendencies – returned to traditional methods of interaction. Fighting. And so the glyphmasons – before they were called that – were compelled to focus their studies on martial glyphs.'
'Which changed by the time there were kingdoms,' said Asva, feeling the need to defend her heritage.
'Eventually, but mainly because Wotyn forced peace on the kingdoms. If not, war would have gone on until only one kingdom remained.'
'Wotyn is your argument for uncontrolled glyph experimentation?' Not that she denied his intervention had been a good thing. The Scarred Sea still bore that name for the great battle that had taken place at the end of the wars, a reminder of the cost of uncontrolled aggression.
'The knowledge he gained saw glyphs evolve faster than they had since the first ones taught us them. Yes he was a bastard, but that didn’t affect the glyphs. And he brought peace.'
'The peace of tyranny.'
'Mainly over the monarchies which had fought the wars,' said Thjorn.
Asva said nothing. That may be partially true. She doubted the tyranny wouldn’t have reached the people, yet the history books didn’t say much in that regard. It was implied, but that could have been the bias of the authors.
'After his time the kingdoms began to slide back towards aggression,' said Thjorn.
'Slowly,' said Asva. 'They did allow freedom for glyph development during that period, and the progress didn’t slow. But that freedom resulted in the Society.'
'Freedom was granted grudgingly. The kings still controlled glyphmasons, but didn’t want to risk other countries outpacing them technologically.'
Asva nodded acquiescence of his point. They’d been reluctant to allow glyph knowledge to be shared across borders. When weighed against what could be learned from such exchanges it had been deemed an acceptable risk. Not immediately by all, but once a few kingdoms agreed to it the others couldn’t risk being left out.
'Nevertheless,' said Asva. 'That freedom led to the Society coming to power.'
'Because the kingdoms slipped back into war,' said Thjorn.
Again not something she could dispute, damn him. It was only during the succession war in Dadfnir the kings realised the true scope of the power the Society had gained. Tiring of wars interfering with trade, they stepped in to end the war before it could get going. They split the country among the two claimants, creating Culvik.
'You almost sound like you support the Society’s formation,' she said.
'I understand the reason for it. And the peace they’ve managed to enforce has been a good thing. I’m sure you don’t deny that.'
'I don’t deny peace is better than war. And as tyrannies go they’re at least a fairly distant dictator in most things. But we’re still being dictated to by an organisation whose primary goal is profit.'
'Agreed,' said Thjorn. 'And their control of glyphs is the one area where their tyranny is more immediate. That’s why I oppose them, and why we’re allies in this. But it doesn’t mean I want glyphs back in the control of the kings.'
'That explains your dislike for the Society. But the Alliance arose to oppose the tyranny you’re railing against. Why not join them?'
'Initially they opposed it. Then they compromised for a piece of the power. More than the Society wanted to give, maybe, but now there’s no difference between them. As far as I’m concerned they’re a single entity.'
He seemed more opposed to them than she was. At least from her perspective the Alliance was useful to counter the Society’s ambitions.
As the Society had grown more entrenched, they’d limited memb
ership to the elite – handling the expensive glyphs – while maintaining power over lesser glyphmasons whom they allowed the jobs they wouldn’t deign to touch. The resentment this bred had led to a trade alliance, careful not to challenge the Society’s power. Until they did.
By that point the Society realised they’d been as blind as the kings had been to them, and the kings thought they had an opportunity to retake power. They didn’t get the chance. The guilds didn’t go to war, as that would have harmed business. A compromise was reached, with areas of trade carved up between the two. Everyone was satisfied, apart from the kings.
Some still saw their failure to quickly ally with the Alliance and so gain preferential terms – maybe even control – as a mistake. Asva didn’t think it would have gone any differently. At best they’d have replaced the Society with the Alliance.
Unless they could abolish any form of guild she didn’t see much chance of glyphmasons losing their power. Individually most probably weren’t bothered with politics, but as a whole there were enough with the desire to control things that the guilds would retain power unless something happened to them.
Asva wondered what Thjorn wanted to happen, and what plans he had to achieve it. And what plans he had once the guilds were dealt with. He wouldn’t tell her of course – she was a potential future enemy – so she didn’t ask.
While his earlier actions against the guilds had seemed little more than irritants, she’d seen no cost to her in accepting his offer – ensuring she was isolated from suspicion. That he’d accomplished what he’d promised meant he was someone she needed to know more about.
His viewpoint could well put them at odds at some point. She’d rather not, but she’d been trained to prepare to face tomorrow, one who was an ally today.