Michael
Michael shifted in his seat uncomfortably, it wasn’t the chair that was the problem more what he was waiting for. Three days had passed since he had entered the capital of the dwarven kingdom and now he was sitting in the waiting room for their ruling council.
He was alone in here, so he had no problem with showing his nervosity. He had been surprised when Valmick and Solon came back to the mansion and announced that they managed to get an appointment only two days later. Michael had expected it to take much longer and now he felt unprepared.
He had remained in the mansion the last two days to minimize the chance of attracting any negative attention and had worked his way through the library of the estate to the best of his abilities. From his estimations, it would take at least a few months to read everything in there if he tried, but he still had fun skimming through books that looked interesting and that he could read.
A quiet knock pulled him from his thoughts and Solon entered.
“They are nearly done with this debate so we will be up next. How are you feeling?” The sympathizing expression didn’t help Michael much.
“Good, good,” he lied, and Solon knew it. “Tell me again how our chances are.”
“We already have the support of the clans Foulder, Morican, Tolend, and Patkar, and some of the smaller clans. Against us stand the clans Ignar, Grapper, and Olcek and all their followers. King Prezzim will support us as well. The swinging votes of the clans Kar, Xantos, and Zeilver will be the deciding factor. Xantos and Zeilver will follow the decision of King Jearn so everything will stand and fall with the question if we can convince King Jearn Yorenson to support us.”
“Wouldn’t clan Ignar follow their leader if King Jearn supports our cause,” Michael asked.
“The king is old, many of his supporters are gone already and his son has the de facto leadership of the clan,” Solon explained.
“Okay,” Michael said but before he could ask the next question another knock stopped him, and a servant opened the door. “They are ready for you now, Lord Rowan.”
Michael rose from his seat and Solon gave him an encouraging tap on the back. “Good luck and remember to be respectful and charming.” Michael nodded and then followed the servant out of the door, he would have to do this alone.
The council hall was large, larger even than the ball hall in Lionsgate. To the sides sat the audience, mostly comprised of high-ranking members of clans. The ranks were made from white marble and built like stairs to give everyone a good view of the round center stage. At the other end of the hall was a large podium with two thrones on it. One was made out of red and the other one out of silvery grey rock.
On the grey one sat a dwarf that looked older than any dwarf Michael had ever seen. His hair was white, his skin tattered and his eyes had fallen in. This must be King Jearn Yorenson, Michael thought and let his gaze wander to the other king.
King Prezzim was younger by a lot; he was probably even younger than Solon but had an aura of authority around himself on his red throne. His black hair and stern expression gave him the appearance of an experienced warrior.
The major clan leaders were seated to the left and right of the kings and the minor clan leaders had their seats on the stands next to them.
As Michael entered the court, he could hear the audible turning of all those present toward him. Panic began to well up in him, but he pressed it down to the best of his abilities, and to his surprise he felt the calming presence of the other entity in his mind.
He stepped onto the platform with confidence and inspected the lectern in the middle. It was masterly crafted out of marble but lacked the extra decoration that most dwarven architecture seemed to have in high society.
Michael could hear the whispers from everywhere as he climbed the stairs to the lectern.
“Count Michael Rowan, of the Kingdom of Telios,” a guardian in full plate armor announced loudly and slammed the heft of his axe onto the ground.
Michael could see servants kneeling next to their masters everywhere and he knew that they were translators. Michael was glad that he didn’t have to try to make his case in dwarfish, but he had sadly been denied having Solon up here with him. Michael watched with interest though that no translators came to translate for the kings.
Michael centered himself with a couple of deep breaths and started talking after the guardian who had spoken before gave him the go-ahead.
“I greet the esteemed kings of Garekha, it is an honor to be allowed to talk in these holy halls.” He bowed in their direction and then turned to the clan leaders, “I also greet the honorable clan leaders and thank them for making it possible for me to be here.”
He then turned back to the front and closed his eyes for a moment.
“I come before you today not because of selfishness. I am here to propose a mutually beneficial trade agreement between the county of Reen and the Kingdom of Garekha. Both of our homes have products that the other needs and that would lead to a betterment of the living conditions of not only us but also those that live beneath us. We can offer quality wood, agricultural products, and also pelts and livestock.”
It was at this moment that Michael noticed that many of the clan leaders weren’t paying him any attention and were talking with their neighbors and laughing. He saw a translator being waved off as he tried to do his job and that caused Michael’s words to stumble a little bit.
It doesn’t matter, you have to convince the kings and not the clans, he told himself, trying to regain his composure.
“Ehm, this trading route would open up a whole new market for dwarven products and would increase the profit for your merchants by several margins,” he stumbled a little bit but got back into it.
“If we build a road betw…,” Michael stopped and stared at King Jearn in disbelief. He could see the few clan leaders who were actually listening turn their heads. Valmick lost control of his expression for a moment and frowned deeply. The old king was slumped in his seat and fully asleep.
It is over, Michael thought, how can I convince him if he is sleeping?
His mind was racing, should he try to speak louder to wake the king, or should he ask for someone to wake him? Most had not even noticed that he had stopped talking and anger began to rise in Michael’s chest.
He gritted his teeth and then locked eyes with a blond dwarf who smiled at him with a gleeful expression. From descriptions, he knew that this was Prince Gahrek and the amusement on his face was like kindling on the flames of anger.
Keep calm, just get through it. You may be able to convince some of them if you show dignity to this disrespect, he thought and wanted to start again when a loud snore cut through the chamber.
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Everyone turned to the sleeping monarch and laughter began to slowly echo from the onlookers, some even pointed covertly at Michael.
He took a step back and continued to stare at the old king. Embarrassment, anger, and frustration came over him. Was he being ignored again because he was a child or because he was a human?
He bit down hard on his teeth and thought, take me serious! With that thought he raised his hand and a large light ball appeared at a moment's notice. “MICHAEL, NO,” came the shout from the audience ranks. He could see the guardian move the moment he had raised his hand, but light magic was too fast for him. The light ball erupted in a gleaming explosion and screams echoed from all directions.
It was over in a split second. Michael stood with his arm still raised, the guardian standing between him and the podium of the kings. He and the guardian inspected each other but both stood as still as statues. Five seconds went past until a loud yawn broke the silence.
“Oh my, this is more action than I had in fifty years,” came an old voice from the grey throne. Michael stood completely still, only his eyes moving to the king who looked awake and lucid all of a sudden.
“Is this how you treat all of your guests in this court? Ignoring them and sleeping. Is this how things are handled in your court, your Majesty,” Michael asked while trying to move as little as possible to not provoke the guardian who could probably split him in two with ease.
The people simply stared at him and the king to see his reaction. Even King Prezzim simply observed the situation.
“That depends on the guest mostly. Now I have a question for you. Are you suicidal to be casting a spell in here,” the king asked with an amused look.
“We should …,” Prince Gahrek began to talk but the king cut him off.
“Be quiet boy, I am having a conversation here. Now where were we? Are you suicidal?”
“I am not, your Majesty, but I had to get your attention somehow and this was the only thing I could think of,” Michael said and slowly lowered his arm.
“That was very dramatic, young boy, but you have my and everyone’s attention now, so you better use it well.” Michael could see King Jearn lean forward on his throne and watch intently.
“Your Majesty, humans and dwarves have worked together in the last great cataclysm, and our races are both still here. Now the time of low mana is over, and it is on the rise again. I know that our people have lost touch since the end of the catastrophe, but I believe that we can rebuild the trust and friendship that we once held.” Michael focused only on the old king now, he had done so much, even putting himself in danger to gain his attention now he just needed to use it.
“Lost touch? You humans don’t even remember what you have done? You don’t even know why we want nothing to do with you anymore?” A loud laugh followed from him but everyone else in the room was as silent as if they were in a gravesite.
“What are you talking about,” Michael asked confused and even most of the dwarves didn’t look like they knew what he was talking about.
“Right before the cataclysm ended, a group of humans came into this very kingdom. They wanted to borrow our most-priced artifact. An artifact that was passed down to us by our founders Yoren and Thorm. We refused; we had given so much for the war, lost so much, but this was too much.” A deep-seated sadness came to the surface on the marked face of the ancient dwarf.
“And how did the humans thank us for our continuing support and our sacrifices? They stole the artifact from our vault and used it in some kind of ritual. The cataclysm ended shortly after but even until this day we have only been able to retrieve a single fragment of the artifact.”
Michael looked at his hands while he pondered about the story, but it didn’t ring any bells. It was a story from nearly one thousand years ago so he doubted that it would have been transcribed by the church if it concerned a dwarven artifact and human theft.
“You talk about regaining the trust and friendship that we had? It is lost and broken like the artifact that you once stole.” There was no malice in the king’s voice, just pain.
Michael looked up from his hands and said, “And still there might be a fragment of it left here. I can’t say that I have ever heard this story. I can’t say that I have even heard anything resembling this story. I can’t tell you with a good consciousness that you should forgive and forget because my race is not very good at that either, but I am trying to mend the wounds that the great cataclysm has left on my people. Your grudge sounds like the one the Church of Idas has with the mages. It was made before anyone here was alive and no one that caused it is still here but nonetheless people that haven’t been slighted hate those that have done nothing wrong.”
Michael gave the king a sympathetic look and also looked at the other dwarves. He had their undivided attention. He saw angry dwarves, pondering dwarves, and even some agreeing dwarves.
“Your Majesty, I ask you, will you put a grudge first that is over nine hundred years old, or will you put your people first, those that a living in the here and now? If you don’t choose to serve your people first then I am sorry, I won’t be able to enter into any kind of agreement with you.”
King Jearn held his eye contact for nearly a full minute during which no one dared to interrupt. Then a smile came onto his face, and he began laughing loudly and slamming his arm down on his armrests.
“You won’t be able to enter into any agreement with us if we don’t put our people first,” he exclaimed between fits of laughter. “Very good, very good.”
He then suddenly stopped and got serious again, “What I find the most impressive is that you actually mean that from the bottom of your heart. Huh. Well, you have gained my interest, Lord Rowan. Please tell me about what you have planned.”
A huge weight fell off Michael’s shoulders and he grabbed the podium in front of him for support. Whispers and discussions instantly began to erupt all over the court hall and Michael saw the anger on Prince Gahrek’s face. The guardian who was still standing in front of him with his weapon at the ready finally relaxed and returned to his position, but he still kept an eye on Michael.
“My plan is to establish a trading post between your kingdom and my lands and construct a road on either side of it. Dwarven and human traders can go there to exchange goods. We can start to get used to each other with this and expand this trading post to handle trading permits into the respective kingdoms at a later date.”
“What about the beastmen? Being harassed by them or having to run with heavy escorts will not work,” the king asked curiously.
“I have already set up a meeting with the chief of the wolf clan which controls the area. I plan to negotiate free passage for our trade and even to allow them into the trading post which would give us access to their pelts, herbs, and meat.” Michael would have expected an uproar at this information if Solon hadn’t told him that the dwarves weren’t at odds with the beastmen as much as the humans because of their border wall.
“And you believe that you can convince them?”
“I believe so, they haven’t raided my lands in over a year, so I think that they are either weakened or not interested in conflict with the kingdom at the moment. Both would give me a good chance to talk them into a peace agreement and also a trading agreement.”
“Very well, Lord Rowan,” the king said and gave him a nod. “Does someone want to speak on this matter,” he then asked to the left and the right.
“I would,” came the angry voice of Prince Gahrek. Michael made space for the furious dwarf and took a seat at the single chair on the platform right next to the guardian.
“Brothers and sisters, what are we doing? Are we really considering working with the humans? Do our traditions mean so little to us? He asked if we would put our grudge over our people and I say that if we just let it go then we are letting go of a part of our identity, of our self. Are we ready to just accept them back after what they have done to us? After what they have taken from us? We are doing completely fine on ourselves and don’t need the inferior goods from the humans to cost honest dwarves their jobs.”
He stepped back from the lectern and looked at the faces of the people in front of him.
“Think of who you want to see prosper. The dwarves or the humans? Keep things like they were for hundreds of years because they have been proven to work, allying with humans has only brought suffering.” He then turned around and walked down from the podium seemingly not wanting to waste more breath on this senseless matter.
After him followed a seemingly endless string of other dwarves that spoke on the matter, from merchants to clan heads, from supporters to those cursing out everyone who even considered it.
When the last speaker had finally passed King Prezzim rose from his throne. “Now that we have heard everyone we can come to a vote. I, King Prezzim Thromson, support the establishment of a trade route with the human realm.” He sat back down and looked at the other king.
King Jearn rose from his throne with some difficulty and let his gaze flow over his subjects who all looked as tense as Michael felt. “A king has a duty to his ancestors, but he also has a duty to his people. I am old. I am the past. Today I will follow the youth, our future. I will follow my dear King Prezzim’s example and vote for the establishment of the trade route under the condition that a deal can be made with the wolf clan to provide free passage. I pray that it will herald good times for when I am gone.”
The commotion was way larger this time, the arbiter even had to call everyone to order and even threaten with penalties if the people didn’t settle down.
Michael just sat there and stared. He couldn’t believe that his outburst had actually worked but he knew – like everyone else in the room – that they had won with the support of both kings.