“I am Guiding Will, the Head Priest of Sout. And you are?” The priest addressed the quartet in front of him. John bristled as he introduced himself, body tensing almost-imperceptibly for a moment.

So he was a worshipper of Sout. Sout, the God of earth, bravery, and most relevant to now, war. Specifically, the Head Priest of Sout.

Wording was important, especially when introducing oneself, and even moreso when negotiating something as important as a war. There was meaning in every choice one made. And in this situation, the fact Guiding Will introduced himself as the Head Priest of Sout, and not the Head Priest of the Etol temple of Sout, was very meaningful indeed.

“We are the representatives of the four Colleges in Union City.” Maria took the charge, stepping forward slightly, drawing everyone’s attention (and away from any responses that others might have had). “I am A Thousand Spider’s Webs, and I am the representative from the College of Song.”

She stepped back into the line, and nodded at the grandmother-like figure to continue down the line.

She cleared her throat, hobbling forward in a rather controlled manner, without any of the shakiness or flavours of frailty one would imagine of someone at her age. It was the dignity of someone who once commanded respect and never quite got out of the habit after retiring. “I am Atropa, the Dean of the College of Spells.”

Atropa silently shuffled back, maintaining unbroken eye contact with Guiding Will as she did so.

He simply smiled at her stare. It was a practice smile, but not a strained one nor a genuine one. It was the kind of smile that showed you weren’t paying attention, but just wanted to be polite.

Atropa glared back, but didn’t change her behaviour otherwise. Even in the face of deliberate, obtuse rudeness.

“I am Ansel.” A deep bass rumbled out, rattling through the metal helm. The giant stabbed both their armaments into the earth, embedding them with enough force to send mud flying out. It avoided the other representatives from the Colleges, but some was directed at Guiding Will. Even if it didn’t make it, the gesture was clear.

Ansel strode forth with empty gauntlets, removing their helmet and revealing a bald head and bushy white eyebrows. He held the helmet in his right gauntlet, and it looked less like a helmet and more a particularly spiky glove.

Drew stiffened beside Theo. He looked at Drew in confusion, then at Ansel.

Then back to Drew. Then Ansel.

There was more than a passing resemblance.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

Height ran in the family, it seemed. Looking at Drew’s hairline, Theo hoped that male pattern baldness didn’t.

“I am the Head of the College of War.” Ansel finished, looking at Etol’s army like amusing targets. Before he started moving back, he lurched forward, and stomped heavily as if attacking.

A booming laugh left his throat, as he watched a solid chunk of the approaching forces flinch at his motion. Guiding Will was not one of them, looking on with no reaction at all, face still stuck in that smile of his.

Atropos looked like she was going to slap him.

Meanwhile, John’s breathing had steadied, and he strode forward.

“I am Contemplation of Moonlit Silence, and I am the representative from the College of Prayers.” Now that got a reaction from Guiding Will, who cocked his head ever so slightly.

“My Brother in faith, who do you worship?”

John’s eyes sharpened, jaw set and clenched to contain and keep the anger localised. “No Brother of mine is arrogant.”

They were both kindling and flame, drink and misery, cards and debts. They fed each other and off each other, growing more incensed with every word, every motion, every look filled with contempt.

“Let us set out the terms.” Maria interjected forcefully, trying to interrupt the staring match and draw everyone’s attention back to the rather serious matter at hand.

She failed.

“Why are you the ones sent by Union City? Where are the council, where is the guard?” He deliberately ignored her, continuing directing his attention at John.

“As per the charter, the Colleges act as the representative in times of war.” Maria soldiered on, valiantly.

Theo remembered this from one of the General Knowledge lessons. The charter had all the terms under which they could exercise that power, in exchange for support and funding. His recollections distracted him from the negotiations happening in front of him, during which John had walked slightly off to the side to cool off, and Maria had Guiding Will’s attention again.

“What are your proposed terms?” He deferred to her, as they had been the aggressor.

“Standard terms. We only fight under sunlight. Surrender is allowed, standard treatment of captured prisoners. No sieging.” The other College representatives nodded their heads in support.

Guiding Will looked around. “I propose standard accommodation take place inside the walls, as there is nowhere appropriate to hold prisoners out here.” He had clearly planned for this. Theo wondered if he was intending to use it as a vehicle for spies.

Maria looked on, impressed, also having planned for this. “No need. Eva?” The wood spirit appeared from nowhere and with the snap of her fingers, a series of huts grew out of the ground, saplings growing rapidly to become the frame as thin vines and foliage became the roof.

Guiding Will tried to keep the disappointment off his face, composing himself moments later. “Thank you for addressing my worries. When Union City surrenders, it will become a subordinate state.” A muted cheer went up amongst Etol, as the implications of his statements rippled outwards.

“If. Likewise, if Etol surrenders, you will leave us be for one hundred years, and pay reparation for every soul who dies. Agreed?” Maria seemed unfazed by the threat, or even the terms. Theo felt they were unreasonable at best.

“Agreed.” Guiding Will echoed. “Has it been witnessed?” A chorus of ayes slowly travelled across the battlefield from all directions.

“It has been witnessed and agreed upon.” Maria confirmed.

“We will see you tomorrow at dawn.”

The two parties split and returned to their respective camps.

All the briars and thorns that Theo and Francis had planted shot out of the ground. They blotted out the sky, forming a cage of green that stretched the whole way around Union City, long shadows dragging channels across the city.