Threads 167-Emissary 2

Ling Qi saw no reason to give away their own flight capabilities so the group travelled along the ground. The young cloud tribesman took off ahead to carry word back to the redoubt, and the women in the chariot remained to lead them.

She learned the vehicle was called something like “sani.” The word didn’t translate, so she was forced to try and pronounce it with middling success. There was a minor incident when the huge beasts pulling it had grown restless at Zhengui’s approach, snuffling and pawing at the icy ground, but she had been able to ease through that by asking him to stay at the rear of their formation.

The trip was swift. They weren’t far to begin with, and the riders knew the route most free of quagmires and obstacles. Within ten minutes, the iron mountain loomed overhead, blocking the sky. They climbed for a short time while the sani and its riders taking back to the sky. They left one of the thickly built women to lead them.

Mounting the wide base, they followed a carved trail wide enough for two men abreast that rose along the mountainside. At its top, Ling Qi saw two immense slabs of dark iron sliding apart, revealing a wide doorway carved with elaborate scrollwork and topped with a stylized depiction of the sun.

On the steps leading inside, Ling Qi was forced to recall Zhengui, which seemed to spook their guide. She seemed incredulous at Ling Qi’s hurried explanation, but like her warleader, she also seemed eager to make it someone else’s problem.

The inside was not as dank and cramped as Ling Qi might have expected from an underground dwelling. The ceiling and upper walls were elaborately painted in blues and whites, depicting an open sky. It reminded her a bit of the roof of the throne room in Xiangmen,.

They walked through the wide halls for a time, mounting several short flights of stairs before the hall narrowed at obvious defensive chokepoints. But the simmering hostility that burned in the symbols worked in among more mundanely decorative carving was quiescant for now. Soon, they came to the end of the hallway and entered a wide gallery.

Like the hallway, its ceiling resembled the open sky, only more convincing for its height and expanse. Six large pillars, which Ling Qi first took for tree trunks but swiftly realized were painted iron, upheld the roof, joined by arches near the ceiling’s apex.

The walls drew her attention next. Painted on them were a pair of murals that seemed to depict a stylized battle. Tracing the scene with her eyes, she realized it was a kind of story. At the beginning, ill equipped folks were pressed by strange enemies. It was difficult to tell what the enemies were meant to be. There were masses of different shapes, some like beasts, some like humans, and some that Ling Qi thought might be dragons of a sort. They all had the same eyes though, deep and black, standing out from pale skins and hides.

As the story progressed, she saw the ill equipped people joined by a depiction of what she took for a mighty ice spirit paired with a figure of blazing sunlight. The two drove back foes with wind and ice and light. The ice and snow flowed into the image of a mighty host clad in strong armaments with female figures soaring above, and men in white robes among the soldiers radiated sunlight.

On the other side showed what Ling Qi thought was meant to be a series of fortresses or great walls of ice and iron crewed by proud soldiers. Under a sky of shifting color, battles with the black-eyed foes were shown, ending at last in a great wall of flame that roared from the earth, burning the last of the enemies to ash.

“I will ask that you wait here a short time longer, guests.” Their guide’s gruff voice drew her attention back to the sturdy woman. “The Emissary will be here soon, and her entourage will bring refreshment. Until then, please rest from your journey.”

Ling Qi glanced at the rest of the room, seeing plain but sturdy furnishings, including two long tables set with equally long benches on either side, and firelight from evenly spaced hanging braziers. The tables had been pushed up against the walls with their benches, showing hasty abandonment. Ling Qi strongly suspected that this was some kind of garrison mess and meeting hall. In the center, a smaller but more polished and decorated round table had been set with two chairs on one side and one on the other. A pair of leather padded benches had been set behind the table as well.

“I apologize for the inconvenience to your soldiers,” Ling Qi said, inclining her head slightly. “The current accommodations are satisfactory.”

The woman gave a grunt of acknowledgement. “If this draws complaints, they need more drill,” she dismissed. Her eyes flicked down to Hanyi, and then away. Ling Qi caught a trace of discomfort in her expression, not the first she had noticed among the foreigners when they happened to look her way. “Does your sister require any special accommodations, Emissary Linchee?”

Ling Qi blinked slowly, the mispronunciation of her name hardly registering . “No. Hanyi is quite well, aren’t you, Hanyi?”

Hanyi put on a smile, but Ling Qi could tell she was confused too. “Yeah, I like this place. It’s very comfortable.”

The woman cleared her throat and nodded. “Then I will take my leave. Emissary Jaromila will be here soon.”

Ling Qi didn’t think she had ever met someone who had immediately called Hanyi her sister.

As the woman left, Ling Qi glanced toward the table set out for them. The intended seating was rather obvious since the single chair on the far side of the table was a fancy thing of wrought iron and blue fabric while the closer pair were both carved from bone like the long garrison tables and benches.

With them left standing awkwardly under the gaze of the guards, Ling Qi sighed, letting the translation effect of the ring she had been given fade. “Less friendly than I hoped. More friendly than I feared,” she said quietly.

“I have seen meetings between neighbors which harbored more tension,” Cai Renxiang observed. She stood straight with her arms crossed beneath one of the braziers. “Remain confident. This is the best welcome that could have been expected.”

“They seem a doughty enough folk.” Gan Guangli rolled his shoulders, glancing around. He seemed a bit invigorated by the subtle sun qi filtering down from the ceiling. “I am sure that your words will reach them.

Xia Lin merely grunted in acknowledgement, remaining close to Cai Renxiang’s side as she studied each of the guards in turn. “I do not like that I cannot read their meridians.”

“And that is fascinating, isn’t it?” Meng Dan mused, standing with his hands hidden in his sleeves as he gazed up at the ceiling. “Similar enough for me to read their realm and stage, but missing something so fundamental.”

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“I think it is more interesting that their focus remained on me, even after I explained Lady Cai’s position,” Ling Qi said as she took one of the seats at the table.

“I do not believe our words necessarily translated well,” her liege replied, taking the seat beside her. The heiress tapped her fingers on the polished tabletop, an uncharacteristically nervous gesture. “They misunderstand our hierarchy, and I similarly remain unsure of theirs.”

“Something to clear up in the talks then,” Gan Guangli said, the bench behind them groaning under his armored bulk. Hanyi hopped up beside him, looking around curiously. Xia Lin and Meng Dan occupied the other end.

“Implying that Lady Cai has such a relation with one of you two… Unacceptable,” Xia Lin grumbled.

“Unacceptable indeed,” Gan Guangli said agreeably.

Ling Qi caught Xia Lin looking surprised out of the corner of her eye. “… Yes. Baroness, I trust you will clear the matter up quickly.”

“Of course,” Ling Qi replied, reaching down to pat Zhen’s head. He had taken up a spot beside her and was peering around warily. Looking back, she saw that Meng Dan’s gaze was fixed on the murals, his expression intent.