The Delegation Read online

  Credits

  I want to thank my tireless beta readers for making this a far better book: Brisa, Charlie, Lindsay, Martha, and Stephanie.

  Also, as always, thank you to you, my readers. Your support makes all this support, whether it be the sweet books I write, the edgier books, or, in this case, the guilty pleasures. Thank you for buying my books and emailing me with your kind words.

  Robin Roseau

  February, 2019

  The Delegation

  I dropped into a curtsey. “Good morning, Minister Heliodor.”

  The man barely glanced at me. He grunted then offered a perfunctory, “Morning, Allium.” I wasn’t offended. Aasim Heliodor was as old as the gods, or so he seemed, but deeply brilliant. I was lucky and deeply honored to work for him. He was a slight man, distressingly gaunt, actually, and walked with a stooped posture, clutching a stout wooden cane with care, but he refused to allow us to wheel him about. As he was the Minister of Transportation for all of Flarvor, I thought his slow gait was ironic, and I’d once heard him comment on it as well.

  I rose from my curtsey then stepped forward and set his morning coffee on the edge of his desk. Without looking, he reached and pulled it closer, and took a drink, offering a nod.

  Delivering coffee wasn’t really my job, but Minister Heliodor had once commented that I was the only one since his wife died who could brew a proper pot. Late one night, he’d actually called me by her name and then colored badly and apologized immediately. I’d told him I was deeply honored that he’d felt there was any resemblance to such a wonderful woman.

  I waited, and finally he cleaned his pen before setting it aside. He looked up at me, seeing me for the first time. “Good morning, Allium.” He lifted his cup and took a deeper drink. “Thank you.” He gestured with the coffee to punctuate his meaning.

  “Of course, Minister,” I replied.

  “When did you get back?”

  “Very late last night,” I said. “I haven’t had time to prepare a formal report, and you can imagine how legible my notes are.” I didn’t explain further. I’d taken them while bouncing along in a carriage. “I thought you might prefer a verbal report, and then I can take today to consolidate my notes.”

  “Please,” he said with a gesture. I took the offered seat.

  “I traveled to the Ressaline border,” I began.

  “Ressaline?” he repeated with a frown. Then the frown deepened. “Oh. Yes. It’s not called Charthan anymore. Continue.”

  “Sir, did you know the Ressalines had taken over maintenance of the Verlies Bridge?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I wouldn’t say they rebuilt it, but Sir, they may as well have.”

  “The entire bridge?”

  “It’s as perfect as you could imagine, Sir, shore to shore, and for twenty paces on our side as well.”

  “You’re not serious. Why am I just learning this now?”

  “I got back last night, Sir.”

  He waved a hand. “That worthless man isn’t entirely worthless,” he snapped. “He would have reported it, if only to cover his own ass.”

  “If he did, I haven’t seen the report,” I said. “And Lord Hibonite didn’t have time to see me while I was in Tebradine.” I hadn’t minded at all. The man had wandering hands. I hadn’t ever had to fight him off, but I’ve known others who have.

  “Heartbroken about that, I can see,” said my boss. “Not that I blame you. But I want to make sure I understand. The Ressalines repaired the bridge.”

  “Yes, Sir,” I said. I smiled. “We won’t need those funds after all. Sir, I inspected the bridge myself. When the Ressaline soldiers saw what I was doing, one of their commanders met me and offered me safe passage to inspect it end-to-end. Otherwise I wouldn’t have passed the border.” In other words, I could only have inspected our half of the bridge. “It’s not new, Sir. But they did a good job, and better than we could have with the funds you wrangled.”

  He frowned at me, but then nodded.

  “It looks like a single bridge now, Sir, not two halves stuck together.”

  “How much time did you spend?”

  “More than was necessary,” I replied. “Just looking at it, I could see it was sound. But I was thorough. It’s why I wasn’t back two days sooner.”

  He nodded. “I wouldn’t have sent you if I didn’t trust your judgement, Allium. They repaired the bridge and the nearest roadway?”

  “Yes, Sir,” I said. “For twenty paces. It’s actually rather jarring.” I paused. “Their captain took me for a ride a mile into their country. They didn’t rebuild the entire road on their side. It’s in good condition. But… Um.”

  “Yes?”

  “The transition from bridge to road isn’t jarring.”

  “Ah,” he said.

  “Sir, I think that’s why she took me. We didn’t talk about that. Sir, I’d like to turn around and see to the transition on our side.”

  “It’s not like that worthless man will do it,” he said. “Why do you want to take that time?”

  “When their delegation comes through, I don’t care to be embarrassed, sir. Right now, it’s exceedingly obvious what they’ve repaired and where they stopped. It’s my reputation, Sir.” Then I bowed my head.

  He said nothing for a moment then prompted, “What else?”

  “The main road from the Verlies Bridge to the Barrish gates is in moderate condition. We’re going to have to raise the section through the Meendie Marsh, probably in the next three or four years.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s been settling, and unevenly. I saw six distinct places that had clearly washed out this spring.”

  “The local crew repaired those sections?”

  “And quite well,” I said. “I know it’s the shortest route, Sir, but is that the only reason the road goes through the marsh?”

  “Politics,” he said, making a face. “The Lord Meendie of the time was quite influential. He wanted trade passing through his district.”

  I nodded understanding. “The road is passable its entire length. The repairs over the Griten River were performed hastily, but they are solid.”

  “How thoroughly did you inspect the bridge?”

  “It didn’t take long,” I replied. The Griten River wasn’t remotely as wide as the Verlies. “You wouldn’t be satisfied, Sir, but it seemed solid. They used timber, Sir, and freshly cut at that.”

  “They used green wood?”

  “And untreated, Sir. They didn’t even paint.”

  He shook his head but then said, “It can’t be helped now. Anything else?”

  “Details only, Sir,” I replied. “There’s nothing else that’s notable you don’t already know.”

  “If you were sitting on this side of my desk,” he said. That was a phrase he used often. “What would you order?”

  “Sir.” That was also my typical response. He waved a hand at me. When he asked that question, he was serious. So, I nodded. “I would order myself back out with two crews, Sir.”

  “Two crews. Why two crews?”

  “One to see to some of the more egregious details, Sir,” I said.

  “And the other to repair the transition from the Verlies bridge?”

  “Yes, Sir. I’d take both crews to Tebradine then send the first crew back in this direction after noting what they would repair. I’d then oversee the repairs of the transition and then play leapfrog with the first team during our return.”

  “Can you do that and return ahead of the Ressaline delegation?”

  “It would depend upon the weather and how thorough I ordered myself to be.”

  He offered a smile. “And would there happen to be two teams preparing for this journey as we speak?”

&nbs
p; “I wouldn’t put it that way, Sir.”

  “What way would you put it?”

  “I might suggest there is one team preparing and the second team conveniently already prepared.”

  He snorted. “I would appreciate a written report. I want you back ahead of the delegation, and I don’t mean the day before, either. You will be back here no less than a week ahead of their scheduled crossing of the Verlies River. Will we be embarrassed?”

  “Only if the weather is particularly poor, Sir.”

  “All right.” He nodded then held up a finger. If he hadn’t, I would have risen and headed to my own office to begin my report. But this was his habit when he wanted something else, but was deciding how to say it. Finally, he lowered his finger. “What did you think of the Ressalines?”

  “Oh,” I said. “I was rather intimidated, Sir.”

  “Did you see any of these slaves I’ve heard tell of?”

  “Yes, Sir,” I said. “I didn’t realize it at first. The Ressaline captain was difficult to understand. They speak with such odd accents. But I saw women working in the fields, dressed in the most unexpected clothing. The captain caught me staring and then asked what I was looking at. I told her, ‘Those women. I’ve never seen clothing like that.’ And she told me that was the traditional clothing for their slaves, with the only difference to be color, Sir.”

  “Color?”

  “She explained they dressed in colors to signify the type of slave. The ones in the fields wore green.”

  “Is that what you found intimidating?”

  “I was already intimidated,” I replied. “The captain was exceedingly polite, but she twice had to assure me I was entirely safe before I would venture onto their half of the bridge, and twice more before I accepted a ride deeper into their country. She wouldn’t let me take anyone with me.” I’d been the only woman in my small inspection crew. “They dress in leather, Sir. All of them.” Then I groaned. “I didn’t tell you. There’s a gate on their side of the bridge. It’s quite sturdy, with a guardhouse, although it looked lightly manned.”

  He nodded. That really was beyond our care, but it was something else we should already have known. “They were polite?”

  “Exceedingly so,” I replied. “Quite solicitous, actually.” I snorted. “The captain insisted on helping me mount, although perhaps she saw I had arrived via carriage and wondered if I could ride. She offered a meal before sending me back across the bridge, but I declined.”

  “The guardhouse is lightly manned, but there was a captain in charge?”

  “Ah,” I said. “I may be wrong. As I said, her accent was difficult to understand, and I think I misspoke besides. Not a captain. A major.”

  “Even more surprising,” he said. “What are you wrong about?”

  “I may be wrong,” I clarified. “I do not believe she is based there. She said something about Charth, but I didn’t quite catch it.” I offered a laugh. “Did you know? They only have a single name.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She was Major Bess,” I said. “That was her entire name: Bess. Sir, I didn’t see any men. Not one.”

  “You wouldn’t have,” he replied. “You knew that already, didn’t you?”

  “It’s just difficult to believe. Will there be anything else?”

  “Just your report. When will you leave?”

  “This afternoon,” I told him.

  “Thank you, Allium,” he replied. “We can talk about the Griten Bridge once this is over.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Chapter Two

  It shouldn’t have been as momentous a delegation as the people of Barrish were making it out to be. Flarvor and Charthan had a long, friendly history. Disputes had been rare. In spite of the somewhat fluid nature of our shared border, most disputes had involved cross border agreements between private individuals or cross-border banditry.

  As for the border, well… The Verlies River represented only a section of the border. In other places, the border was defined by other rivers, most of them very minor, or otherwise described as, “A relatively straight line from the village green of Haven’s Court to the center of Lake Rebartha.” A relatively straight line? Well. As I said, the exact border was fluid, and there were many places near the border where one couldn’t possibly know if one stood in Charthan or Flarvor without asking the nearest person. Much of the border was farmland, and the landowner might declare, “I am Charthan,” and thus his land was part of Charthan. But his nearest neighbor may be of Flarvor, and the border was the line dividing their properties. However, at times, neighbors might sell or trade a portion of their property, and then the border shifted. Or a family may decide to leave the farm, and it might be sold to someone from the other country, and thus, the border could shift.

  The fluid nature of the border had been a problem when Ressaline had invaded Charthan eight years ago. The Ressalines had quickly overrun the entire country, a feat surprising absolutely everyone. Flarvor had been inundated with refugees, nearly all of them men. That had not sat well, but King Leander had chosen to accept the situation rather than attempt to send them back. I was a far lesser member of the Ministry of Transportation at the time, and of course hadn’t been involved in any of those discussions.

  The largest conflict for us had been due to the fluid boundary between our countries. The Ressalines had done their best to respect the border, but in reality, there were no maps that accurately drew the exact line. And so, in a few places, they had taken Flarvorians from their farms, and in others, they had bypassed Charthan farms. Of course, we had protested. In the end, Ressaline returned ownership of their farms to anyone who identified as Flarvorian, and that probably included people who only a month or two previously identified as Charthan. But then they had negotiated far more accurate divisions, and an early project had involved erecting markers along the border.

  I had helped to build my share of those markers, but I’d kept safely on our side of the border, and I’d had little interaction with anyone from north of the border.

  The Ressalines had actually retreated the border slightly, and so most Flarvorian citizens found their farms south of the border, as did many Charthans. A few Flarvorian farms were north of the newly described border, and the Ressalines gave the farmers the option to leave, but if they stayed, they were subject to Ressaline laws. Of course, the men were simply evicted, but the women were given the choice of keeping their farms or leaving with the men. Most left with no compensation but were instead told, “We have been generous with land; see Flarvorian officials for compensation.”

  That had been a mess for us, but we had done what we could.

  Of those Flarvorians who had elected to remain on their farms, little was known.

  But I suppose I’m becoming sidetracked. The upcoming delegation from Ressaline should not have been as momentous as it was perceived. It wasn’t as if Ressalines had never visited Barrish, although it had been very rare in the past. It wasn’t as if Flarvorians had never visited Charthan, although that had abruptly ended when Ressaline had invaded, and now there was only one shipping family that routinely traveled north of the border.

  And so, the Ressalines were largely a mystery to us. And this was to be the first major delegation from Charthan or Ressaline in eight years.

  * * * *

  The city turned out to greet them. I had duties, so I didn’t see them arrive, but I understand they had cut quite the figure as a group of twenty-four women, most of them dressed in leather, rode through our city gates. They weren’t staying at the palace; instead, they took over The Green Room, an inn on the south side of Kyanite Green, one of six village greens spread throughout Barrish. The inn was actually a collection of buildings, including two restaurants, a ballroom, and a chapel that could be opened to the outdoors in good weather, which was very common in Barrish. As such, The Green Room was popular for weddings and other events.

  The Ressalines took occupation of the entire inn for the
duration of their expected ten-day visit to Barrish.

  I was vaguely aware of these details; everyone was. But at the start of my story, I knew little more than that.

  I did know that I was to attend their welcoming ceremony, the day after their arrival.

  * * * *

  Court was full, with standing room only. I thought two thirds of the audience were members of government, clustered together by department. Minister Heliodor had a chair, and I stood somewhat behind him along with my fellow department heads and our most senior staff. I was one of only two women department heads, and the other was twice my age. I didn’t need to look around to know that the women were outnumbered at least two to one in the room, and five to one within the Ministry of Transportation. I was proud of my position and didn’t apologize for being a woman.

  The room vibrated with conversation, but then a loud drum was heard, and the room immediately grew quiet. A herald announced, “King Leander Cinnabar of Flarvor!”

  We all knelt, including Minister Heliodor. A door at the back of the court opened, and our king strode forth. “Be welcome,” he boomed. He took his seat and then said, “Rise.” Without a pause, he asked, “Have the Ressalines arrived?”

  “They are waiting to enter, Your Majesty.”

  “Invite them in.”

  The rear doors opened, and another herald announce, “Lady Olivia of Ressaline, Duchess of Charthan, and her delegation.”

  The hurried whispering began the moment the women strode into view. But without a look either left or right, they stepped forward, not stopping until reaching a polite distance from the throne. And then, as one, they offered curtsies to the king, perfectly polite, although somewhat brief. If the king were offended, he gave no indication.

  “Lady Olivia,” he intoned. “Welcome to Flarvor.”

  “Thank you, Your Majesty,” replied the duchess, speaking slowly in her deeply-accented voice. “Your people have been most welcoming.”

  “And how is your queen?”

  “She is well. I carry her greetings.” She turned to the woman beside her, and that woman passed over a scroll. “Might I read them?” The king waved a hand, and so Lady Olivia carefully opened the scroll and read.