Wherefore in the past it has been the custom of the plainsmen to come to Tarsis and barter the rich products of our herds for the trifling commodities of this city, henceforth Tarsis shall render as tribute, to be sent to the court of Kyaga Strongbow each year on the Feast of the Longest Day, one thousand worked saddles of the best wood and leather, one thousand swords of wrought steel, one thousand daggers of the same, ten thousand arrowheads of the same, one thousand bolts of woven silk, ten thousand bolts of woven wool, and ten thousand steel coins.”
For a moment there was a stunned silence.
“I see,” said the lord. “Quite aside from the fact that this is out of the question, does it occur to Kyaga that it is difficult to produce woven wool without the raw wool from the plains?”
The envoy waved a hand dismissively. From his wrist dangled a flexible quirt. “You shall of course be free to buy our wool as in the past. Only the price is changed. It was one ounce of fine silver per hundredweight. The new price is ten ounces.”
“These demands are quite unacceptable,” said the Lord of Tarsis, sounding almost bored. “We see no reason why the ancient relations between our city and your people should not go on as they have for many centuries. However, should you feel that our rates of exchange are no longer fair, we are prepared to negotiate.”
“You mistake the intentions of Kyaga Strongbow,” said the ambassador. “He does not wish to negotiate. You may accept his terms, or you may face war, siege, and extermination!” His followers cheered fiercely.
“I quite understand,” said the lord. “But we must talk further. In the meantime, I have set aside tomorrow for a great feast to celebrate the arrival of the first embassy from the new ruler of the plains.”
“We accept your invitation,” Yalmuk said. “But do not talk too long. In three risings of the sun my chief arrives in our camp, and if he is not satisfied with your response, he will destroy Tarsis!” The ambassador then spun on his booted heel and strode from the audience chamber. When the doors had closed behind the barbarians, the councilors muttered among themselves.
“Did I hear aright?” said Councilor Rukh. “Did that flea-bitten savage just demand our unconditional submission and tribute?”
“Calm yourself,” said the lord. “This is just a trade negotiation. This new nomad chief has simply put his most outrageous demand on the table first. That way, he can seem generous and reasonable when he demands something marginally less absurd.”
“My lord,” said Councilor Melkar, “I think you misjudge Kyaga. I believe he means every word of it. Preparations must be made at once to defend the city.”
“I have already ordered such preparations. But I think they will not be necessary. Tomorrow, at the banquet, commence the subversion of these simple savages. We have three days to bribe them away from their chief. That should be more than adequate.”
The Lord of Tarsis looked about the festively decorated hall, pleased with his strategy. The banquet was going well, all things considered. The savages stuffed themselves without decorum, boasted loudly, and smelled abominable, but so far there had been no overt acts of violence. Guards stood around the periphery of the banqueting hall with polearms at the ready, but the lord had little faith in these. Tarsis had few military men of any account, and the city guards were merely a constabulary, poorly trained and inefficient.
All the members of the Inner Council, unmasked now and smiling as if they were among their closest friends, had one or more of the envoys sitting near them. Farther down the table, other, lesser lords and ladies of the city feasted merrily.
Beside the Lord of Tarsis sat Yalmuk Bloodarrow and the shaman, whom the lord had learned was called Shadespeaker. The shaman communed with the dead, as well as with the thousands of spirits, small gods, and major
For a moment there was a stunned silence.
“I see,” said the lord. “Quite aside from the fact that this is out of the question, does it occur to Kyaga that it is difficult to produce woven wool without the raw wool from the plains?”
The envoy waved a hand dismissively. From his wrist dangled a flexible quirt. “You shall of course be free to buy our wool as in the past. Only the price is changed. It was one ounce of fine silver per hundredweight. The new price is ten ounces.”
“These demands are quite unacceptable,” said the Lord of Tarsis, sounding almost bored. “We see no reason why the ancient relations between our city and your people should not go on as they have for many centuries. However, should you feel that our rates of exchange are no longer fair, we are prepared to negotiate.”
“You mistake the intentions of Kyaga Strongbow,” said the ambassador. “He does not wish to negotiate. You may accept his terms, or you may face war, siege, and extermination!” His followers cheered fiercely.
“I quite understand,” said the lord. “But we must talk further. In the meantime, I have set aside tomorrow for a great feast to celebrate the arrival of the first embassy from the new ruler of the plains.”
“We accept your invitation,” Yalmuk said. “But do not talk too long. In three risings of the sun my chief arrives in our camp, and if he is not satisfied with your response, he will destroy Tarsis!” The ambassador then spun on his booted heel and strode from the audience chamber. When the doors had closed behind the barbarians, the councilors muttered among themselves.
“Did I hear aright?” said Councilor Rukh. “Did that flea-bitten savage just demand our unconditional submission and tribute?”
“Calm yourself,” said the lord. “This is just a trade negotiation. This new nomad chief has simply put his most outrageous demand on the table first. That way, he can seem generous and reasonable when he demands something marginally less absurd.”
“My lord,” said Councilor Melkar, “I think you misjudge Kyaga. I believe he means every word of it. Preparations must be made at once to defend the city.”
“I have already ordered such preparations. But I think they will not be necessary. Tomorrow, at the banquet, commence the subversion of these simple savages. We have three days to bribe them away from their chief. That should be more than adequate.”
The Lord of Tarsis looked about the festively decorated hall, pleased with his strategy. The banquet was going well, all things considered. The savages stuffed themselves without decorum, boasted loudly, and smelled abominable, but so far there had been no overt acts of violence. Guards stood around the periphery of the banqueting hall with polearms at the ready, but the lord had little faith in these. Tarsis had few military men of any account, and the city guards were merely a constabulary, poorly trained and inefficient.
All the members of the Inner Council, unmasked now and smiling as if they were among their closest friends, had one or more of the envoys sitting near them. Farther down the table, other, lesser lords and ladies of the city feasted merrily.
Beside the Lord of Tarsis sat Yalmuk Bloodarrow and the shaman, whom the lord had learned was called Shadespeaker. The shaman communed with the dead, as well as with the thousands of spirits, small gods, and major
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