The teardrop of glass in the pendant caught the light, throwing a refracted shape skittering across the ground for a moment before it dissolved. It kept spinning, but didn’t catch the sunlight just the right way again. Instead, it just seemed to sparkle slightly, enough to remind him of its presence but not be of any use to anyone.
Tikimaken caught it, closed his fist around it, then hooked it back into the necklace he was wearing; a simple, thin chain of silver. It contained a small ring used for just this purpose. He tucked the teardrop, the grave-gift, back into his shirt, then clenched his hand at his side while suppressing a sigh.
Gnomish grave-gifts were an old tradition, a mourning rite. Traditionally one wore it for a year before laying it down at their deceased’s grave. Also according to tradition, his was a small charm, a pendant that could be worn on necklaces, bracelets or a few other options.
Recently, he had seen a lot of them. Some people had taken to hanging them beside each other or wearing special rings or armbands for the purpose.
Tikimaken shook his head and tried to marshal his thoughts instead of letting them drift to morbid subjects again.
Did the Hivekind have any special mourning rites, he wondered briefly? Most people did, surely, but they seemed to lose a lot of drones. Previously, he wouldn’t have thought so, if he’d even thought of the question, but now he couldn’t help but wonder. Well, perhaps he would find an answer. He was accompanying General Aliekin into the Empire, after all.
Their trip did not take long. They had stopped over at one of the cities closest to the border, where he’d accompanied the general to several meetings. The rest of the delegation, relatively small compared to previous occasions, had met them there. Then they’d traveled into the Empire with tamed mounts or carriages drawn by them. It was a bumpy ride, as the roads were not particularly good, but at least they could bypass all places where there had been heavy fighting — the roads there would be in even worse condition, certainly.
The town they were to talk in was nothing special in any way he could discern. Presumably, it had been chosen purely because its location fell into some optimum range. It also hardly mattered; the place was downright crawling with drones. Tikimaken had to remind himself that the war was over, or as good as over, more than once, or the sight of so many troops of their enemy would have misled his instincts. He was also uncomfortably aware that they were probably being watched every second. A few dark shapes that could only be flying drones circled above, some of them far and small enough to appear as little more than dots.
General Aliekin did not show any unease if he was feeling any. Instead, the general appeared completely calm and in control. It was only because Tikimaken had known him for months now that he even realized it might be partly a facade. Still, Aliekin had been almost hesitant when it came to security. He only took one unit of elite soldiers as guards, and it was quite small. Clearly, he felt more soldiers than them would be a provocation. Intellectually, Tikimaken knew he was right in that it didn’t matter how many swords they had, the drones could easily kill them all before they got back to their own troops if they wanted to. The fact the general came in person spoke well of his courage — but then, the information they had received, tense words from a Hive drone sent as messenger, said that the Hive Queen would come personally, as well.
Tikimaken was there as a political leader of the Gnomish Confederation. He had risen quite high recently, almost despite himself. But he knew he had the general’s trust, at least to some extent, and he could speak for the Historicals that remained. But he had no intention of following their traditional policy and trying anything to sabotage or hurt the meeting. On the contrary, he would do his level best to ensure they ended the war.
Not that it should really be in question, considering the Gnomish Confederation had explicitly offered their surrender already, but some people could be idiots. Besides, there were still a lot of open questions regarding how, exactly, peace would look like.
They were met just inside the bounds of the town by a small honor guard evenly split between drones and humans. He eyed the drones surreptitiously; it had been a while since he had gotten so close to them, especially without fighting. It was easy to tell which of them was the talking, humanoid variant and which were mere beasts. He was even distracted enough to miss the initial sentences exchanged between the general and the leader of the group.
“Please accompany us to the premises of the conference,” the drone said. “Accommodations have been prepared for you.”
“Of course,” Aliekin acceded gracefully. “Thank you for the welcome.”
From the inside, the town seemed quiet, and he wondered if it had been deserted or evacuated. The houses were simple, often mudbrick and timber-framed with slate roofs, typical Cernlian architecture. He was familiar with it, had passed through many such towns, if not this exact one, before the war. The central building they were led toward must be some kind of guild hall or municipal building, a bit larger and fancier than usual. Humans he assumed were servants received them and guided them to prepared rooms where refreshments waited.
Tikimaken spent a few minutes washing his face and hands and trying to straighten out his appearance, glancing surreptitiously at his companions. They’d been told the Empress would receive them soon, and he could tell the general was impatient. He had barely sat down and ignored the provided food and drinks entirely.
“Any last instructions, Sir?” he asked quietly.
Aliekin looked at him and raised an eyebrow in amusement. “If there was something I missed, there would hardly be enough time to discuss it in detail, Tiki. Just keep a cool head and make sure no one makes any grave misstep. This is only the initial meeting.”
“Of course, General.”
It didn’t take long for another servant to show up to lead them to their first audience. That was more of a courtesy, he supposed, the building was hardly big enough to get lost in. Tikimaken fell into step half a step behind his general, glancing at the rest of the delegation, many of whom would have been too junior for something like this just weeks ago. Relatively few of them were officers compared to civilian appointments. Then they neared the ‘great hall’ and he focused his attention forward again.
Several drones guarded the doors, but neither of them had names he recognized. They were all above level 40, though. Their demeanor was painfully neutral as they let the group into the room.
It had clearly been prepared for the occasion. His first impression was a lot of light and color for a space like this. A number of people had gathered, but they kept a clear aisle to the throne that had been placed on the slightly elevated dais at the head of the room. His eyes were first drawn to the imposing figure standing beside it, armored, tips of his natural blades resting on the floor pointing slightly at them. He now stood as tall as a tall human man, his shell might have darkened a little and he looked at the visitors as if he was trying to dissect them. Max.
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Another drone, who stood a bit further down to the right of the throne, spoke and captured his attention. A female drone with wings instead of additional arms, wearing a nice dress that had clearly been designed for her race. It took him a moment to recognize Ira, her Hive Queen’s personal attendant. “Welcome to the Empire,” she said. “You have the honor of addressing Her Imperial Majesty, Regina von Woltan, Empress of the Central European Empire and Hive Queen of the Starlit Hive, the Last Progenitor; as well as Her Imperial Highness, Janis von Woltan, Crown Princess of the Central European Empire, and Her Majesty, Kiara Lyns, Queen of Cernlia, Duchess of Heathland and Silver Waters and Lady of the Eastern Expanse.”
Despite the official introduction, there was only one throne present, he noted, even if it was rather understated. The crown princess and queen stood beside each other, close to the throne. All three of the women were turned out in what he imagined to be diplomatic finery, however — the Cernlian queen wore a sumptuous blue gown while the other two were instead dressed in a style not quite like anything he’d seen before, but presumably reminiscent of the Ancients, dark jackets of some expensive material with gold accents over blouses and vests, with trousers — and all wore crowns. His eyes lingered for a moment on the woman who he knew had commanded much of the war. Her almost glittering hair that looked like it burned at the ends and too-vibrantly blue eyes were obvious marks of her demihuman status. Then he focused on the reason they were all here.
She still looked young, perhaps eighteen or nineteen in human years, scarcely more in gnomish years. Perhaps more human-looking than any of the drones and yet still unmistakably other with brownish-gray skin, delicate mandibles framing her chin, her horns hidden by her long hair or perhaps the gold tiara she wore. It was almost disconcerting to see her dressed in an old human style, sitting on a throne.
Their entire world had been changed by this girl, he thought as he bowed alongside the general and the rest of the delegation.
“It is an honor to meet you at last, Your Majesties, Your Highness,” Aliekin said. “I am General Aliekin, leader of the provisional government of the Gnomish Confederation of the East. With me are my aide Tikimaken, co-head of the Historicals …”
Tikimaken tuned out the rest of the introduction, since they had argued about the words quite a bit and so he had heard it several times, in favor of watching the other people present. Few of them seemed pleased to see his people. He noticed a number of officers present, both drones and humans. Several of the more martial-looking people were likely Delvers. There were also a few who seemed to be nobles or court officials, not military.
“How good to see you in person,” Janis Starlit said. “I feared we would have to meet on the battlefield.”
He wondered if that was supposed to be a threat. His general only smiled pleasantly. “I am sure we are all glad that can be avoided, Your Imperial Highness.”
“Indeed,” the empress said drily, finally speaking up. Looking at her, she appeared entirely relaxed. She watched them with a gaze that lacked any warmth, a confidence bordering on arrogance in her eyes, like a ruler looking at her subjects, or, he supposed, a victor the conquered.
“You are welcome in Cernlia for the duration of the negotiations,” Queen Kiara spoke up. Her tone was warmer, but still only diplomatic, lacking anything beyond surface courtesy. Which was fair enough, he supposed. “Please be sure to tell us of any needs you have that we may accommodate.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” General Aliekin responded, inclining his head. “We are looking forward to the return of peace to these lands, and to the resumption of trade.”
Kiara Lyns nodded, her gaze warming slightly. It’s not hard to guess where she stands, Tikimaken reflected. Peace and prosperity for her kingdom, what else would she want? His gaze darted to the Imperial crown princess beside her again. It was harder to know what she wanted. Glory in battle? She already had that, but the kind of people who were after it might want more. Personal revenge? It would depend on how close she was to those killed. Or did she simply follow her queen in all things?
“So are we all,” Empress Regina said. “And yet, we want this peace to be a lasting state of affairs, unmarred by further hostility and hate, by the seeds of a new war. It is my intention to ensure we need never meet like this again, to protect my nation and my people from the ravages of war, which we have all too clearly experienced. I appreciate your surrender — now it is on us to ensure we use it to craft said peace.”
She spoke well, Tikimaken noted. For a moment, he had perhaps gotten a glimpse into how so many people followed her. Charisma from a woman was always a bit surprising to him, perhaps he was too much of a traditional gnome in that regard. But the content of her words was both encouraging and concerning. The desire for a tenable peace was certainly good, but she also seemed to drop hints about what she wanted this peace to be like, and it was clearly to the benefit of her people and the detriment of the gnomes. Keeping her enemies too weak to attack her country again; it was basic political strategy. Not surprising, considering the circumstances.
“Of course,” Aliekin said, nodding. “We all wish for a lasting peace agreement. Ideally one that people of both sides can be content with, so there will be no further desire for war.”
“What a nice sentiment,“ someone else said, from the group close to the throne. Ira, he realized after a moment. The words were faintly sarcastic.
“I assure you, my lady,” Aliekin responded, nodding at the drone, “that I am sincere. Despite the deplorable decisions of my predecessors, as its current leader I can assure you the Gnomish Confederation is eager for peace. The previous executive council was arrested for treason. Their sentiments are not ours.”
An allusion to the start of the war, he knew, without outright coming out and saying that they had started the war. That was, after all, a diplomatic concession, given the previous dialogues between the Empire and the Confederation.
“Does that include the actions triggered by their hate?” Max asked, his mild tone almost hiding the steel under his words. “Such as, say, the death of my siblings?”
Tikimaken sucked in a breath. “We regret all deaths that have come about because of their aggression,” he said before he could stop it. “Especially that of innocents. That would include envoys.”
Aliekin glanced at him but said nothing to contradict him.
“Then you are willing to acknowledge what happened? That Bea and the others were unjustly murdered?” Princess Janis asked, leaning forward a bit.
“Let’s not be hasty,” the general answered in a calming voice, “any formal acknowledgment of guilt is a matter for the negotiation table, not the initial greetings, isn’t it?”
Tikimaken glanced away at the crowd again, but this time not to look for anything. He wished he could just speak his mind here, express his dismay and horror at the details of how the war had started, the previous leadership of his faction’s unmitigated aggression. But he couldn’t. He would have been willing to formally apologize for their actions in his role as current head of the Historicals; he was still willing. But they had debated the option of starting with such an apology as a gesture of goodwill, and in the end the general had decided it was unwise. A formal acknowledgment of guilt was a major issue, it would serve as a concession for the negotiations — so if they gave it up right away, it effectively took one of the concessions they could give off the list of options and the Empire would push for another instead.
He believed Aliekin had no intention of being difficult with it. In fact, he’d already started to make plans of how to leverage the matter back in the Gnomish Confederation. Emphasizing the role his predecessors had played, decrying their sins and crimes, could help cement his own actions. But diplomatically, the card should be played at the best time for it.
“I see,” the empress said, her tone painfully neutral. Tikimaken had no idea what she was thinking. After a moment, she smiled thinly. “We will certainly speak about that, as well as many other issues. But for now, you must be tired after your travel. You are formally welcome here as our guests, and the negotiations are scheduled to start early tomorrow. I am looking forward to speaking to you at greater length, then. For now, you have my leave to go and rest.”
“Thank you, Your Imperial Majesty, the sentiment is appreciated and returned,” Aliekin answered.
Then they bowed again and turned to leave the room. The general showed no visible hesitation or disapproval at the fact that he needed to do so, although Tikimaken supposed other people might have been required to kneel in a formal audience instead of bowing from the waist; he wasn’t versed in human court etiquette.
He strained his ears, but the Imperial royals remained quiet until after they’d left the hall and walked down the corridor to get out of range.
“Well, I suppose that could have gone worse,” the general idly commented. He looked almost cheerful.
Tikimaken nodded silently, unconsciously reaching up to finger Erdeken’s grave-gift under his shirt. It did. He still hoped the following days would be a little easier on his nerves.