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Sudden Turns

Sudden Turns

Lavradio was offering Nexus recurring shipments of all the supplies they needed: paper, cloth, charcoal, grain, and other goods. What they wanted in return was the Inscriptions Arts. And they wanted Gonzo Monforte for their artificer. Their Majesties Leonardo and Farava were in attendance, but Secretary Jorgo was handling the negotiations. Taylor spoke little, preferring to let Anisca handle the unlikeable man. She was, he had to admit, rather good at it.

The boy was an excellent choice for a scriber, likely the very best choice given his intelligence and his affinity for natural law. And he had existing connections to Nexus and the Nature Society. It was a credit to Their Majesties that they would conceive of such a plan and then look to someone so young (ten years old, later that summer) as the bearer of it.

Someone, likely First Prince Estevan who was in the room but not speaking much, must have advised the royals to offer what Gonzo was worth instead of massively underbidding. Vanni knew how Taylor liked to operate, and how quickly he could discard a troublesome trading partner. That they hadn't tried to get the boy too cheaply was a point in their favor.

But Taylor didn't want them to have him. Gonzo was supposed to be his, to bring up in the church, in both prayer and (though he had never told anyone) inscriptions. Secretly, among the hopes he didn't name or talk about, he wanted his friend at his side for the many years to come.

And then there was the question of Taylor's many successors. Hierarch would be an elected position with set terms, and Taylor would relinquish it after a term or two, thus setting the example for future hierarchs. That assumed he didn't die, get summoned away, or otherwise expire while in office. Gonzo could be Hierarch one day, and carry on the work of Phillip the Younger with his enthusiastic blend of wit and compassion.

All of these hopes were far away and speculative, except the one where Gonzo was his friend and was near him, for a while at least, so Taylor could show him all he needed to know to retool Tenobre for its next age. He had yet to meet a mind as quick to grasp the knowledge he had to share as Gonzo's. In terms of benefits to the world at large, teaching him the glyphs was more effective than teaching him the prayers. But he could learn faster and do more in Nexus, where they could collaborate. The training mirrors were half Gonzo's invention, and they had revolutionized spirit training forever. How much more could they accomplish together?

The royals had a path they wanted for the young Monforte, and Taylor had another. The boy's obvious talents doomed him to be pulled in different directions at an early age, yet who was to say what he would choose for himself if given free rein? Taylor didn't want the baron's youngest son to be boxed in too soon, before he could choose for himself.

So it came to pass that Lavradio offered to trade in goods for Taylor's best collaborator and friend, and Taylor had to consider it.

"I would have conditions," Taylor spoke through the queasiness gathering in his belly. "Your exclusive access to the art will only last until Enclave is destroyed and we've established a new Treaty of Alignment. That'll be at least six months from now, but it could be longer depending on how negotiations go. It doesn't sound like a long time, but considering how fast the world is about to change, a six-month head start is more like several years. And you'll have Gonzo working for you. There's nobody comparable to him in any of the realms. Not yet."

"Are you saying that when this treaty is signed, all the signatories will have access to inscription arts, the same as Lavradio?"

"They'll have some kind of access. I haven't written limits into the origin yet, but not all practitioners will have equal access to the art. There are glyphs too dangerous to use without proper training and oversight. But, as long as Lavradio remains in good standing and follows the rules that we'll eventually set into place, I can promise you'll receive preferential treatment. And remember: having access doesn't mean they'll be any good. Other countries don't know Inscription Arts is a thing. It'll take them weeks to select people and send them here for training, and few of them will have Gonzo's comprehension of the underlying principles in natural law."

"We'll consider it," said Jorgo. Taylor couldn't tell from his tone of voice if he was pleased or not. Likely not, given the little Taylor knew of him. He was beyond loyal: He was a zealot about the power of royal blood and the sovereignty of his king.

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"Second, I'll need him here to train him properly. I can teach a lot by Speaking On The Wind, but some techniques must be given in person. There are other people here to learn from, so his practice won't be limited by my schedule. I need six months with him if I can get it."

"Noted. What else?"

"Third, you can't chain Gonzo down to Lavradio. When he comes of age, he gets to decide for himself if he should stay in Lavradio, come to the church, or do something else."

"So we invest this much into him," said the king's secretary, "and we could still lose him? Unacceptable."

"He has a little over five years until his majority, correct? You'll have other practitioners by then. And five years is plenty. By then you'll be shocked at what's possible. In ten years, all the things that shocked you will be commonplace. In twenty, you won't recognize the world you were born into. And even if he's working for the church, he'll be scribing and you'll have preferential access to his designs. There's a long tail of benefits to Lavradio, even if he moves. He should be free to choose."

As Taylor understood Lavradian citizenship, most people could travel or move away if they wanted to. They only needed permission if they had sworn an oath of loyalty, and those oaths always came with a title or position: military, nobility, and civic officials were the most typical examples. As a minor, Gonzo couldn't take an oath without his father's consent. Under normal circumstances, the king wouldn't stoop to confining someone in the country, but Gonzo wasn't normal.

"You talk about his liberty but you just want the boy for yourself." Jorgo sneered the words as if to imply there was some impropriety between them.

"Yes. I want Gonzales Monforte for Nexus, and to stand next to me, but only if that's what he wants. I won't barter away his free will for cloth and coal."

"Then you'll have neither your goods nor your favorite student. The king may make use of his subjects as he sees fit, and dispose of them as he sees fit."

Dispose. As someone once disposed of by a Lavradian king, Taylor didn't take the term lightly. It was vague enough to mean anything, but it included the possibility of killing Gonzo to keep someone else from having him. As threats went, it was so thinly veiled as to become suggestive: gauzy lingerie over naked violence.

Nobody spoke, but the silence was filled with Taylor's darkest contemplations. If Gonzo needed rescuing, or if he needed avenging, how far would he go? Taylor considered the the distance to Lavradio, how many days there and back again, the likely obstacles, and whether he should be more or less merciful to the lives that stood in his way. A bloody rampage could send a message, but it wasn't the soldiery's fault if their king had turned into an …

Anisca's voice broke the silence, with laughter, of all things. High and jolly and, for those who knew her, as Jorgo surely did because he was many years in the same castle while attending her older brother, scalding in its mockery of the secretary.

"When did you become so brave, Jorgo? Even a modest disciple is nothing to trifle with, and you're playing brinksmen with the Eldest Brother? Even fearsome Ma'Tocha, Scourge of Bandits, obeys him without question. Well done!"

An awkward silence dragged through the wake of Anisca's scorn. Taylor waited, not as a negotiation tactic or a conversational gambit, but because he wanted to know what Jorgo would say. Would he deny his intention and claim ignorance of the many meanings of dispose? Would he increase his wager, and restate the king's right to the lives of his subjects? Would he take the unexpected route, apologize, and allow negotiations to continue?

"Oh. Are you of the opinion I've said something improper? I only mean that the monarch …"

"Scrap-loaf, Jorgo," Taylor interjected. "Is the dowager queen in the room with you?"

The question caught everyone by surprise.

"Well? Is she there?" The moment of silence told Taylor that she was, and the silence after that was the group's sudden understanding that their failure to immediately say no, the dowager queen is not with us had given away the fact she was attending the meeting, quiet and lurking. The further silence was them waiting on their king, and their king deciding on what he should say. Maybe they were debating with each other about what to do, using sign language.

Privately, in the social graph he kept in his mind, Taylor drew a line through Jorgo's name. There was no reason to talk to him, ever again.

"Yes, Lady Diana is here." Leo sounded unconcerned at the conversation's turn. "Did you have something you wanted to say to her?"

"No I don't want to talk to her," said Taylor bitterly, "I just want to confirm that the king threatened a boy, a loyal and useful subject, an innocent, with death, in the presence of his mistress of assassins. We all know she's not above killing minors."

If King Leonardo felt any anger or alarm at that statement he didn't let it show. "We didn't mean to imply …"

"More scrap-loaf! You let your secretary say it, you didn't correct him, and you let the threat sit there. You know, I keep thinking that Lavradio is a friendly country, or at least wants to be friendly, and Lavradio keeps reminding me that nations only have interests. I should probably thank Your Majesties for all the remedial lessons."

Prince Estavan cut in, "Taylor, we are your friends."

"Are you? Because friends don't threaten to kill each other. And no friend of mine holds a knife to a child's throat."

His finger hovered over the link, "This conversation is over." Taylor pulled all the spirit from the link's stone, so the royals couldn't call him back.