Chapter 19
Diplomacy
It was Thursday in the city of Romitu. It was the day the Queen held open court. Citizens with a grievance that they felt was inadequately addressed by the judiciary could bring it before the Queen and appeal directly to her. It was a long, hot, climb through the forum and up to the high city. It was an even longer wait once they reached the summit. And, since the Queen's time was limited, there was never any guarantee that their case would be heard. Yet it did not stop them coming in throngs.
Recent reforms have come down hard on the lucrative practice of paid place-holders. Cases were pre-registered as people arrived and the truly frivolous ones turned away. However the standards were deliberately light and persistence was rewarded. Otherwise too much bureaucracy would recreate the problem the open court sought to avoid. Most of the time it served its function, to show a human side to rule and take care of unique cases that didn't fit into general rules. But it was not beyond abuse, and a fair share of long winded, pontificating bombasts that had no interest in having a case heard but just wanted a platform to berate the personage of the Queen got through.
Queen Jesca sat on her throne, chin propped on her hand making no effort to hide her contempt. She looked for the twelfth time at the clock, dripping away the time until the court was over. It was another priest. This time from... she had forgotten. She looked over the raiment of the stern faced patriarch shaking his fist at her. Ah, yes, The Water Bearer. It happened during almost every open court. Many more applied but her schedulers arranged it so that no more than one got through per session, and usually as the last case for the day.
His monologue wasn't much different than any other one. The actual case was some tenuous excuse involving blasphemy or contempt of natural law. He harangued her for defying the gods by resurrecting the dead. Of hubris by offending the gods with her contemptuous threats. And, at length, the presumption of throwing down the aqueducts and using foul (non-divine) magics to procure water for the populace. The last, at least, she understood. The temple's propitiatory rites were no longer needed, and they had lost a source of income and influence. But she had offered them governorship of the new magical founts, with a roughly equal stipend. That, however, would have made their other protests harder, and so they had turned it down.
Eventually one of the schedulers, mercifully, gave the signal. Neither a drop too soon, nor a drop too late. She had made it clear to them, despite how she hated it; they had to do their job meticulously to ensure fairness. One of the benefits of that is that she felt no guilt whatsoever in terminating the case. “Thank you very much for bringing this to my attention,” she began, although he had not ceased speaking. “As our resurrection offer is optional, I suggest you take the matter up with your congregants and if they, too, find it blasphemous, they should not ask for it.” It was formula. All it did was incense him. But it was a formula to be followed. “I regret that is all the time I have today. Please return if you feel your complaint was not adequately addressed.”
She rose and moved away. This, of course, did not deter him either. The two guards to either side of him did, although gently and only to prevent him making physical contact with her. As she left he continued to address her, and probably would continue, for some time, hurling imprecations at the door by which she left, or the empty throne. After another hour, they would shut the hall and gently remove him.
“My turn?” asked Coral, who had joined with her guards as they left.
She gave him a poisonous stare and she flung herself into a cushioned chair in an antechamber she used as her personal office. He smiled and brought her a glass of watered wine and some chilled pear slices. Jesca ate them hungrily and rubbed her forehead.
“I only caught the end of it,” said Coral. “Worse than usual?”
“No,” said Jesca, morosely. “Nothing particularly new or biting. He was just from The Water Bearer. The worst is when they let someone from Harper through.” Her hands gripped the goblet white knuckled with the memory of it. “They have tongues made of sharpened adamantine.” After some silence she looked up to see Coral holding back tears. “I forget,” she said quietly. “You've heard Harper play. Personally.”
Coral swallowed hard, and poured a goblet of wine for himself.
“Was The Water Bearer in court when you were there?” she asked, changing the subject.
“Yes,” said Coral, after a swallow. “She didn't say much. Just played with her water jugs and gave me disapproving looks.”
“You and I are no strangers to the sword,” she said. “How you stand, how I sit. We both can see it in the other. Once you learn to size someone up, you never stop.”
“I lined some good shots up on your guards as I walked behind them,” joked Coral.
Jesca smiled. “So. The Water Bearer. How did she sit? When it comes to it, will she come bearing trident to battle?”
“I really didn't...” started Coral. But he stopped and through hard. “No,” he said finally. “Thinking back on it I didn't get that sort of vibe from her. Other than overwhelming remonstration, she was definitely calculating. But her hands caught and weighed the water that flowed through them; they did not balance an imaginary weapon. If she comes, I think magic will be her weapon.”
Jesca nodded. “Sky Father will, of course, use his mace of sleet. Grave Keeper allegedly uses a scythe, though it seems a bit unwieldy.”
“You think it will be those three?” asked Coral.
“I really have no idea,” said Jesca. “I've just been with Bianca. If she's right and it comes down to personal combat, I'm just trying to think of the scenarios.”
“How is she?” asked Coral.
“Unperturbed,” said Jesca.
“Ah. A full recovery then!” said Coral, laughing.
Jesca laughed as well. “She must have asked me five times for more mana for the Ævatar project.”
“Tell her to line up for open court,” said Coral.
“That's the last thing I'd wish on anyone,” said Jesca. “Let alone a friend.”
“Ah, yes. Lilly is around as well, yes? The triumvirate of terror. I remember the three of you causing all sorts of chaos in Scioni's household when we were just a camp in Irontree,” said Coral.
“You don't know the half of what we got up to,” said Jesca. Then she was beside herself laughing. “Oh, my! Lilly said to me yesterday they wanted to take the Ævatar ice skating!”
“That's... That's a mental image I could do without,” said Coral.
Jesca laughed for a while longer. Then pushed aside the plate and goblet. “All right. I think I am recovered.”
“Ah,” said Coral. “It is my turn then.”
“Yes,” said Jesca. “Yes it is.” She steepled her fingers on either side of her nose and breathed into her hands, as if warming them. “I take it you have heard by now that Bianca has talked with a Grey Elf.”
“Jack mentioned it when I checked in with him this morning,” said Coral. “He said it was a new one.”
“There is a transcript here,” said Jesca, indicating her desk. “As near as we can put together between Bianca's recollection, and Lilly's probing. It's hard to capture all of their subtleties, so there's a lot more there than that. Gesture, inflection, and speculation as to significance of each word or phrase.”
“A five minute conversation expanded into dictionary size?” asked Coral.
“Yes. Just like last time,” said Jesca.
“Can you summarize?” asked Coral.
“No,” said Jesca. “When you try, there is nothing there. We never know what they're really getting at until much later. If ever.”
“Just like last time,” said Coral.
Jesca shrugged. “My take from it is that we're being really interesting and she's fascinated in finding out how things turn out. If we survive, that is.”
“But no actual... help,” said Coral.
“No,” said Jesca. “Worse. I get the distinct impression she
really doesn't understand what's going on. Can't shift from looking at the ten thousand year view to looking at today.”
“Unless, of course, that's the impression she wanted to give,” said Coral.
“Of course,” said Jesca, rolling her eyes. “I'll leave such paranoia to you Elves and my spymaster.”
Coral started to protest and she waved him down.
“You'll have to read it yourself and form your own opinion. It may be quite different,” said Jesca. “In fact, I expect to be completely different. That's kind of how they work.”
“I didn't need my own copy,” said Coral picking up the scroll. “I can just read yours.”
“You can read it, but it isn't for you,” said Jesca. He looked up at her. “That's for your mistress.”
“Oh,” Coral said, quietly.
“I'd give you specific questions for her,” said Jesca. “But she'll just tell us what she wants to tell us anyway.”
“On her behalf then, I thank you,” said Coral, formally. “The Grey Elves are a particular passion of hers.”
Jesca shrugged. “The more viewpoints we have on this the better. She has not formally thrown her lot in with us. I wish that she would. We could certainly use her help.”
“I will continue to convey that to her,” said Coral.
“Understood,” said Jesca. “Serving two masters is difficult. I don't want to put you on a spot. Neither do I want a tit-for-tat exchange with the Lady Gwendolyn. So I give to her freely without strings all I can that I think that is in her interests and hope that she sees fit to return such.”
“She has not been contrary to our interests,” said Coral.
“Oh, no,” said Jesca. “She has been very instrumental.” She held up her hands. “No complaints from me.”
“Well,” said Coral. “I guess I'll be off then.”
“Good riding,” said Jesca. “But when you do talk to her... remember she once fought alongside of the gods. You might consider asking her the preferred combat styles of them.”
Coral grimaced, saluted, and left.