THE BLUE KING - CHAPTER SIX

I'm not very comfortable with this chapter, so if you see any way to improve it, please, let me know. I cut out a lot, because I had a *ton* of info-dumpage, and I know how much you all hate it. So. What's left needs fine-tuning!

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The gathering was a solemn affair; hold after hold trooped inside, some small, some large, but all in definite support of moving for peace. There were a total of ten holds—eleven, if you counted that of the High King’s—and eight were present; J’engar-ha, having been combined with J’engar-fae, no longer existed.

Though J’engar-ai had expressed no intention of coming, there was an empty chair to the High King’s throne, announcing its presence though Ianna had not arrived. She arrived, as per usual, without notice; she simply appeared in the chair, as if she had been there all along.

"We are gathered," Aedaan announced darkly. "You come before me with the intention of pushing for peace with Talon—a unanimous vote is required."

"We are all here, majesty," Vilae J’engar-la said slowly, brow furrowed.

"Yes," Ianna said inscrutably, "but I do not vote for this peace of yours." The vehemence behind the word "peace" made them all flinch, and one or two of them actually sat back. "You know nothing of which you speak. Nothing!"

"The border has been silent for generations; it is time to make peace with our neighbors," Ceani said flatly. "Small skirmishes mean little to this gathering, Ianna."

The room seemed almost to darken; Ianna’s eyes were not amber, but gold; fear began to grow, abruptly, in their hearts. "Skirmishes," Ianna hissed, her cheeks pale with anger. "J’engar-ai once numbered in the thousands—now we are but a hundred for your skirmishes."

"It is not our fault you are inept at training your fighters," Ceani snapped, well aware that she was treading on dangerous ground, but she was counting on the fact that Aedaan would not allow blood to be spilled in a gathering.

"Bring forth the wounded," Ianna said harshly, and the doors clanged open, a parade of cots surrounding the long table of chairs and nobles—moans and screams of pain assaulted their ears, and the scent of blood and herbs was thick in the air. "These men and women were all struck by Talon weapons. They were on their way to Baevaar to pray—they carried only small weapons and were not looking for a fight. In order to reach Baevaar, they had to circle the Great Chasm, and thus they came within sight of the Talon border." Ianna circled the table, eyes glowing with intensity, such a violent shade of gold that no one—no one—could for even a moment doubt that she held immense power in her grasp. "The Talon patrols crossed into our lands and attacked our people." She paused, touching one man’s forehead as he cried out in anguish, then said harshly, "When they left my hold, their number was twice this. If they had been aware—if they had had the weapons they needed—far less would have died. But because of Talon savagery, they struck without need, without cause, and struck down a religious party!"

There was a long, uneasy silence, in which the helpers of the ill began to move them back out again, clearly worried that their patients would not survive the trip. Ianna watched them go with a fierce, protective scowl; the other kings and queens had a sudden flash of intuition that she was truly a queen—a true leader, born to protect her people. Beside her, they felt horribly inadequate.

Istal, of J’engar-bei, cleared his throat tentatively, then stood, his plain black and gold robes making hardly any noise at all. "I was not aware of these facts," Istal said quietly, in his odd, hushed voice; he had always been a quiet man, given to no undue fancies and always very exacting in his decisions. "I regret that I was not informed. However," here he paused, glancing at Ianna with something like pity, "it only strengthens my resolve to go forward with the plan. An envoy must be sent to Talon. We offer them peace—and if they do not accept, we go to war. It is time for our brothers and sisters to stop dying."

The gold in Ianna’s eyes vanished as if it had never been there, and she moved immediately to Aedaan’s side, a fierce glint in her eyes. "Majesty," Ianna said in a clear, wickedly delighted voice, "I request permission to lead the envoy to Tvaar."

Aedaan narrowed his eyes at her. "And you are aware, I think, that should negotiations go badly, I will need Talon’s king taken care of?"

Ianna’s grin was shameless. "I think I can cope with that, Your Majesty."

"It is decided, then," Aedaan said, rising to his feet. "Send with her a sorcerer, a scribe, three delegates, and as many warriors—no more, no less." He looked at Ianna with open frankness. "You, m’dear, will bring with you poor Caelun, so that he will not fret himself to death."

Ianna smiled faded a little. "Majesty—"

"Bring Caelun," Aedaan warned, "or you will remain here." With that, he swept away, smiling to himself as if he had just made an extremely amusing joke.

"I wish my best sorcerer to attend you," Ceani said, stepping up behind a slightly deflated Ianna. "Consider it an apology for my behavior earlier." She smiled at Ianna as she turned, dark eyes saddened. "We have always been friends, Ianna. I wish it to continue to be so."

"Who is this sorcerer of whom you speak?" Ianna inquired softly, thinking of Taejon.

"Taejon Bae-ai," Ceani said grandly. "He is very—"

"J’engar-ai," Ianna said, pleased at the way every head turned at the word.

"I’m sorry?" Ceani asked politely, a frown forming between her perfectly straight brows.

"His name is Taejon J’engar-ai," Ianna repeated, turning and heading for the door. She paused a few steps away, looking at Ceani with a wide smile. "And I would be pleased to have him."

Whispers followed her all the way to the courtyard.