Threads 306 Heron 2

“I received your paper messenger,” Xia Lin said to her, walking beside her with her arms behind her back.

“Good. Then I don’t have to spend time explaining.”

They walked along the sun-dappled path of a freshly laid Wang road, leaving behind the stables and receiving area at the opening of the valley. She suspected that the slightly winding nature of it swaying around hillocks and old growth was an influence of the Meng and Luo delegations.

“Do you think your presence will help?”

Xia Lin considered her question, the faint clank of her armored boots on stone joining the sound of birds and construction as they walked. “In the capacity as a second voice whose judgment the General is more inclined to trust. In this, I may help you.”

“And do you believe what was laid out in the message, Xia Lin?”

She’d written her intended arguments and her reasoning for Xia Lin to consider. She watched the other girl out of the corner of her eye.

After a long moment, Xia Ling responded, “I believe they are your sincere assessments. I think a number of points are too optimistic, but I trust in your and Lady Cai’s overall vision.”

“Which points are those?”

“I do not believe that much trade will be achieved in a meaningful time frame. A ceasefire and a chance for consolidation and growth, this is good and likely. Peace will last until the cloud tribes are absorbed or slain and our borders meet. Perhaps we may even see proxy conflict, wielding our vassal tribes against each other in the nearer future. The pretext of cultural kinship is too thin to achieve more than that.”

Ling Qi arched an eyebrow. “You talk about a meaningful time frame and then say something like that. Even if you believe it is a thin pretext, a story told well and often enough has its ways of becoming true.”

“Hm, the first is true. My own bias is clear. But the second is dangerous.”

“It is dangerous in the way a sword is dangerous,” Ling Qi rejoined. “It is the wielder who decides where the harm goes.”

“Yes,” Xia Lin said thoughtfully. “Art and history are weapons as well. There were those who had honed them to the finest edge.”

Ling Qi dipped her head in acknowledgement.

“But one does not discard a weapon just because an enemy uses them. There would be many unhappy imperial bowmen if we did. I trust that Lady Cai understands what she is wielding through you. That is my opinion. You asked for it.”

“I did. Can you sincerely vouch for me with the general?”

Xia Ling nodded crisply. “Yes. You have significantly better judgment for interpersonal conflict than I.”

“I will accept that compliment. If I may ask, how would you describe what drives and motivates the general? What lies at her heart?”

Xia Lin furrowed her brow. “The people of the Emerald Seas. Only the people of the Emerald Seas.”

Ling Qi tilted her head.

Xia Lin glanced at her. “The Daigiyya are a tribe, isolated, dying, and irrelevant. The Xia’s members are connected, thriving, and respected.“

As they made their way to the meeting site, Ling Qi considered the careful use of the group for one and the individual for the other.

They found the general waiting for them on the ground floor of the central embassy building. She stood at attention behind the large chair-lined table set in the meeting room, facing the wall. She appeared, superficially at least, to be examining a wall hanging depicting the Siege of Hui-controlled Xiangmen. Ling Qi hardly needed her more than mortal senses to know the woman’s attention was focused on them well before they reached the room. This was a simulacrum, she believed, but the Heron General’s presence was not much less for it.

Xia Ren was bald, her dusky skin marked here and there by scars and faded tattoos. Her features were harsh and stony. Ling Qi wondered what it meant, that she still wore the ghosts of those tattoos, even though as a sovereign, it would be trivial to erase them entirely.

The general turned on her heel as they entered. “Baroness Ling, Sergeant Xia, I have heard your lady’s request.”

It occurred to Ling Qi she had never seen the general at ease. The closest she had ever come to even sitting in Ling Qi’s presence was when she had been mounted on her arrival at the Sect.

“We have, Honored General.” Ling Qi clasped her hands and lowering her head. “Thank you for agreeing to hear us.”

“It behooves me to understand your thinking in this,” the general said shortly. “You are injured. There is something rotten in your channels.”

“I underwent tribulation recently. Although I feel I succeeded, there was a cost. It will take time to cleanse.”

Ling Qi shuddered as she felt the woman’s steel gray eyes on her, sharp and flensing.

“Digging through old trash.”

Ling Qi raised her head. “In my experience, people often discard useful things.”

The general regarded her for a long moment. “This can be true. Sometimes, refuse may make useful fuel or raw material.”

Ling Qi held her gaze, picking over those words. “One must use the tools they have in building forward.”

“One should not forget the full suite of tools they now have at their hands, merely because they are used to scavenging. This is a common failing among those who rise from disadvantage.” The general clicked her tongue. “Enough fencing.”

“As you like. May I ask your opinion on the meeting coming up?”

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“That these foreigners already make demands shows they lack understanding of their position. They try to puff themselves up. That creature outside, the tree, would not be able to withstand me, should matters devolve. Perhaps it might be able to hold me while they fled. Regardless, I do not disapprove of the sharing of information regarding the construction work. The information proposed there is simple and public to the extent that it could be obtained easily by any spy. A low value trinket for negotiations.”

“It may be necessary to show some degree of our planning and geomantic layouts as well,” Ling Qi said. “Simply to avoid interference.”