Threads 307 Traditions 1

The meeting came early the next day and took place in the neutral land where Ling Qi had held her luncheon with the emissaries. A proper pavilion had been erected with a solid stone foundation and a roof of wood and clay tile. It had a large rounded table with plentiful seating, as requested by Renxiang. There were some perfunctory refreshments, in deferment to custom, though she expected they would remain mostly untouched.

Already there when she had arrived was Wang Lian, who had at least doffed her workers’ smock in favor of plain brown and green robes. She sat at a seat near the far end of the imperial side of the table with her hands on her stomach.

At the far end of the table, she saw Emissary Dzintara. The hawkish looking woman eyed her up as she approached. She was different today. A dark black line had been painted across her lower lip and down her chin, and a number of jangling piercings hung from her ears. Her aura smelled like woodsmoke and ozone, like an ancient tree just split by lightning.

She also caught a glimpse of black feathers before her eyes slid off of a shadowed corner of the pavilion. An impression of a stubble-lined face as lined and weathered as an old cliff face had been flashed to her. The crow was here, and only being politely visible.

“Good Morning, Baroness, or should I say, Emissary?” Jin Tae had been standing outside the pavilion, apparently waiting for her. He wore black robes chased with silver, and the white mask of a Ministry of Integrity inspector was pulled up on the side of his head.

“Good Morning, Apprentice Tae. Probably the latter. It’s the more important title here.”

“As you like,” he said. “And this…”

“Is Sergeant Xia Lin, who represents my lady’s security.”

“I am pleased to make your acquaintance,” Xia Lin said. With some coaching, she managed to only sound as stiff as one would expect from a member of the White Plumes.

“A pleasure,” Jin Tae replied. Well, with your arrival, we are only missing…”

The air screamed, separating in a vertical slice of glowing blue, and General Xia was there, standing beside the table. Her helm was on, making a fully faceless and featureless form of articulated and gleaming steel

Jin Tae chuckled. “No one at all.”

She saw the general’s head turn toward the shadowed corner. Crows cawed aloud, shadows shifted, and then, there was an old man in a cloak of crow feathers, bent and leaning on a gnarled stick. His dark and sunken eyes looked steadily back. Emissary Dzintara grimaced, a spark of lightning popping between iron teeth.

Nerves. The emissary was anxious here. Ling Qi wasn’t surprised.

“Yes,” she said, stepping past Jin Tae. “Welcome, everyone, and thank you for making time today. It is my hope that together, we can reach a satisfying arrangement on matters of our work groups and patrols. It honors me that all of you chose to attend.”

“It is best if there are no misunderstandings,” Wang Lian said passively. “An hour’s planning saves a day’s repairs.”

“Let there be no gaps in our understanding,” said the general, turning her eyes from the old man. Her glance flicked briefly to Dzintara, who maintained an admirable composure. She took a single step and turned, crossing her arms as she stood behind the seat there.

“Let our sight be shared here in this place of peace,” Emissary Dzintara said stonily.

Jin Tae followed Ling Qi, a step behind her and off to the side, smiling an unreadable little smile.

Xin Lin stood at her heel and gave her the tiniest nod of encouragement.

Ling Qi kept her back and shoulder straight, surveying everyone.

She had her work cut out for her.

“For the purpose of today’s meeting, I think it best if we lay out clearly the goals we hope to accomplish,” Ling Qi began smoothly, betraying none of the nerves fluttering in her stomach, or so she hoped, at least.

She took her seat, and Xia Lin sat down beside her. Jin Tae followed suit, taking a seat nearer to where the general stood. And she did remain standing, making not even a single motion. Across the table, the old crow remained in his corner as well, shifting only far enough to rest both of his gnarled hands on the head of his walking stick.

“To my understanding,” Ling Qi began, acknowledging neither, “that is the synchronization of our construction plans to avoid missteps in spiritual architecture or damage to one another’s security as the first priority. Can we agree on this?”

“That is correct as far as my interest goes.” Wang Lian moved to sit straighter in her seat, casting off the relaxed appearance she had been affecting. “We’ve halted building in a few places already.”

“So have our crews,” Emissary Dzintara said tersely. “The laying of runestone and way anchors in the northern end of our assignment has been halted.”

“Thank you very much for that, and I apologize deeply for the delays to both of you,” Ling Qi said.

“We of the Ministry of Integrity have continued our survey and assessment, of course. I have been given permission to make some of them available.”

Ling Qi paused, glancing at Jin Tae. “Thank you. The second objective is the efficiency of our patrolling. Right now, we guard the valley separately and without coordination. There have been incidents of groups of our soldiers spooking one another or the work crews.” She kept her voice neutral. “This harms us both, not to mention the way it may open opportunities for third parties to incite trouble.”

It was another chip to play, one she hoped would stack with her earlier efforts to shift the general’s position.

“You refer to the cave demons my own advisors have informed me of?” the other emissary asked.

This novel’s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

Wang Lian rumbled, “Tricksome and dishonorable bothers, that they are.”

“My accounts agree,” Dzintara said, looking between them.

“Might I ask what you know of our enemies?” Jin Tae asked smoothly. “A small token of good faith perhaps.”

Ling Qi shot him a look, but she couldn’t disagree openly. “We have no place to make demands,” she softened the rhetoric, “but that would be appreciated.”

Dzintara drummed iron nails on the polished tabletop once. “In tales from the cloud tribes and our hinterlands, they are plaguebearers and merchants of death, selling curses and runework to the desperate and foolish. There are older legends from beyond the Gates, home of the new tribes. A great spine of mountains akin to what you call the Wall. Nidavellir, kingdom of the svartalfr, nestled in the roots of a great frozen tree which scrapes the vault of heaven. There are some that match with your descriptions.” She crossed her arms. “More should wait for an appropriate meeting.”

The general’s faceless helm turned very slowly toward the emissary. Ling Qi saw sweat on the other woman’s brow, but to her credit, she did not falter.