Young Writers Society

Author's Notes: 1,077 words.  Probably one of my better parts thus far (which isn't saying much, but shhhhh)?  I always like writing about bear adviser/Valeri.

It was only a few minutes after sitting down that Valeri found himself in the one conversation that he had wanted to be in.

“How’s my son?” he asked, sitting on a small chair that strained and groaned under his weight. The tent wasn’t particularly large, nor did it contain much within it. There was a drawer to the side, a mirror resting atop it; beside the mirror was quill pen laying over several pieces of paper. A stout wooden rod in one corner held the polished blue-and-silver armor of Kasimir, which failed to glisten due to the sun’s shining at an odd angle. A large bed was positioned opposite the tent’s entrance, marked with blue curtains and a full wooden frame that would be a pain for anyone to carry if not for the fact that the Lord Walenty himself would assist in placing it in covered wagons during travels. Kasimir was utilitarian, but admired bright colors and intricate designs on anything he had, so the armor and curtains had an inlay of the emblem of Walenty – a sword protruding from a dragon’s maw to stab at a coiling snake, with a star overhead the scene. Valeri had never much liked that symbol.

The woman in the full suit of armor, holding a lance that nearly pierced the top of the tent, replied, “he does well.” The lady’s armor was black, but silver ceremonial epaulettes and a cape cemented her allegiance. “The country is wary of its king’s departure, but they are quieter and less troublesome than normal.”

“How’s my son?” Valeri reiterated, huffing in frustration as the chair beneath him threatened to give way, leather straps at the bottom struggling to uphold his large weight.

The woman’s voice didn’t change. “He keeps to his studies and wishes you well.”

“Is he keepin’ himself healthy?” questioned Valeri, accidentally clawing the armrests as he shuffled around.

“The boy runs and has been tended to by the best physicians, and his diet is acceptable,” she said hollowly.

He laughed in what was, thanks to his appearance, a deep voice that made it sound almost like a growl. The woman remained steadfast as ever as his reaction shifted to bemused and curious. “And the military? Pfanxi still alive?”

The suit of armor clinked as the lady nodded in response. “She has it easier than usual. Alsather and part of his government leaving means that their soldiers cannot be as hostile as before, though their people are more aggressive.”

As one of the legs on the seat finally snapped, forcing Valeri to stand up, he sounded disappointed. “I thought kickin’ out Alsather’s enemies would make his people happy, considerin’ they’re all a bunch of racists.”

“Aye,” said the woman in the suit of armor, nodding again. “Yet, in both countries, there is distrust. Everyone is afraid of the Mad King having arranged this meeting and inviting their leaders to come over. They fear that he might kill them, or at least create a bad deal that would grant him greater control over the other countries of the Confederacy.”

Valeri frowned. “I can see that,” he concluded, “’cause that’s what he wants to do. Have us dead or have us lorded over. And we’re supposed to be Claec’s enemies, so they probably trust us to take advantage of this thing.”

“That is why your son is asking if your life’s work is paying off.”

Valeri froze, his arms behind him and gripping the chair. His face (or, what was visible of it), scrunched up in frustration, beady eyes shrinking in size as he glared at her. The lady took a step back before he breathed a long sigh and hung his head. “Can’t shoot the messenger, ‘cause my its own son that doubts me, not you. Not like I can really fight anymore. Or ever could, now that I think about it. But Eimhin and Claec always were friends, and Walenty was born to shut up the snakes and push them into a puny state. Of course it’s taken me these few decades to try to push them apart, even with the Mad King madding it up. Ya’ can tell him that much, and if he rolls his eyes and tells you that’s what I’ve said every time, tell him it’s what I’ll keep saying until it happens.”

“And…” said the lady, hesitating, her lance hovering warily, “how are you negotiating with Alsather and his people?”

Rolling his eyes, Valeri responded, “same as ever. Kickin’ out his enemies and gettin’ them out of the country so he can say he’s done somethin’. We’re also workin’ together to see if we can force the Mad King to end this whole game when we get to speakin’ tomorrow, if it doesn’t take him ten minutes to get angry and quit. Speaking of, since you’ve come all this way, I’d like you to look out for somebody.”

“As you command,” said the woman, while Valeri turned out and bent over to shove the leg back in the chair. “What is his name and appearance?”

Finished, the bear groaned, having strained himself in that effort, and sat back down on the seat, which precariously wobbled but remained firm. “They call him Belisarius. He’s got a lot of facial hair and probably looks grumpy right now. Look for the guy in the shiniest and stupidest suit of green armor who looks more interestin’ than the others.”

“More so than Karikoff,” she replied. Valeri imagined her raising an eyebrow.

“Yep,” he said, the leg immediately falling off the chair as another one snapped and sent him toppling forwards. The woman stepped outside the tent to avoid his wide girth, and then walked back in and he rose up and pushed the broken chair into a corner. “It’s funny, ‘cause the Mad King hasn’t pushed Karikoff up to the front yet, but I bet I’ll come down tomorrow and hear he had a change of plans.”

“Not if we can stop him with a second playing card,” replied the soldier, bowing respectfully.

“That’s the idea, so get to it!” commanded Valeri as the lady bowed once more and exited, her lance briefly cutting the top of the tent so that a small amount of light flooded in. He laughed as he whispered an incantation and shifted back into Kasimir, who sighed exasperatedly as the King spotted the roof and then peered behind him to find the broken chair.