Lucrandi opes et potentiam

Ex opere aliorum

Justinius recognized the voice in an instant. The Aequendar now stood before Justinius, his fine garments falling gracefully about him and his white hair pulled into a bun atop his head. His slanted eyes were alight and laugh lines etched his face as he stepped aside to allow the gangplank to be put in place. He gestured grandly with his hand to usher the Aquillan’s down the ramp.

“Welcome, honored guests,” he said again. “I am Falehiem, Lord of Salucenti and the Eastern Woods.”

The Aquillans hesitated, unsure who should step forward first. Justinius moved to step first but was cut off by Laurentius who strode boldly onto the plank.

“Greetings, Lord Falehiem,” he said, putting an arm out to greet the Aequendar. “I am Senator Laurentius of gens Conditius, oldest of the…”

He was put off when Falehiem ignored the proffered arm and bowed in greeting. Justinius hurried down the ramp to greet him next but was blocked by Laurentius. He coughed in annoyance and continued, “I trust you have rooms for us that are…suitable? We have traveled long weeks by horse only to be put immediately onto a ship.”

“Of course, Laurentius Conditius,” said Falehiem, rising from his bow. “We have guest quarters prepared for you and baths drawn up. We believe you will be pleased with the accommodations.”

“Very good,” said Laurentius, still blocking the ramp.

Justinius wanted to ask him to move and felt his awkward position, halfway between the ground and the ship full of men as he hung between the two. Falehiem’s gaze turned to him and his head tilted slightly. Justinius felt his gaze piercing his own and cipher through his feelings and thoughts. “And you are?”

“This is my fellow senator, Justinius Honerius,” said Laurentius.

Justinius frowned at him in annoyance. He turned to Falehiem and bowed. “Salwe, Dominus Falehiem. Pax tecum.”

There was a sudden pause from the muttering on deck as it was registered that Justinius had spoken Aequenda. Justinius hoped he had spoken it correctly, having never had the opportunity to practice with someone. The Aequendar smiled widely at him and bowed in return. “Et tecum, Iustinius Honerius,” he responded.

Laurentius finally moved from Justinius’s path, allowing him to step onto the dock. Falehiem’s gaze was still searching Justinius’s face and a small smile crossed his features as if something was confirmed for him. He gestured once again to the Aquillan’s. “Come. I will lead you to your quarters.”

The procession of Aquillan men followed Lord Falehiem who was flanked by the two senators. The Aequendar of the city appeared to be dressed well, their woven shirts and pants dyed an array of colors. They gazed quietly at the Aquillan men but made no move to greet them, harass them, or even find them interesting. They simply took notice and moved about their day.

They began to follow a street that curved up toward the large building that dominated the city when they were startled by a massive figure crossing their path. He was human-looking: his clothes were simple and looked homemade, his face was more brutish, and his skin was covered in thick, dark hair. However, he was as tall as three men atop one another. He glanced down at them with confusion but merely shook his head and continued down the path toward a group of similarly sized giant men. The Aquillans, already overwhelmed, followed them with wary gazes.

“Do not fear them,” said Falehiem, calling for all to hear. “They are more afraid of you than you are of them.”

“What are they?” asked Justinius. “I mean, who are they?”

“They are Homentis. Or, in your tongue, mountainous men.”

“Are they human?”

“They are older than humans,” said Falehiem, smiling at his statement. “They, like us, have retreated to the secluded areas of the world to avoid the human populations. Their history with your kind has ended often in their destruction or enslavement.”

None responded to that statement. Ardellius pushed his way up behind Justinius and muttered, “Have you ever seen one of those?”

“No.”

“Huh…I’m guessing some ancient ancestors fought them once and we still get the blame because they live forever.”

Justinius frowned back at him and shook his head. Ardellius put up his hands in surrender and fell back.

The affluence of the city couldn’t be ignored. Every building seemed ancient and yet well cared for. Only the weathered faces on stone statues showed the scars of time. As they approached the massive building, they turned and entered a tower at its corner.

Upon entering, the party was already grumbling at the length of the climb they would have to take. However, there were no stairs to be found. Instead, they were in a square shaft with an open square section on either side. They looked around, confused. “Hold,” said Falehiem. “I must signal our arrival. Everyone step in. We do not want to leave you behind.”

Falehiem moved a brass gong in the center and struck it. The air rang with its musical thrum and slowly faded. A grinding sound could be heard and Falehiem spoke calmly. “Everyone, stand in the middle and keep your legs loose.”

The wood floor suddenly shifted as they began to rise. The men were startled, some falling to their knees, as the floor lifted them up the tower. “What is this?” someone cried.

“An elevated platform,” said Falehiem.

“How is this possible?” Laurentius asked.

“Counterweights and precise measurements,” responded the Aequendar.

Justinius could now see the purpose of the square sections on either side of them as a system of pulleys and counterweights slid past. In a few moments, they were halfway up the tower and the lift groaned to a halt. Falehiem stepped onto the path beside the wooden floor and said, “Come quickly, we mustn’t take long.”

The party followed him off the elevated platform and out of the tower. They were now high up, on a bridge that connected this tower on the main building to a separate building in the mountainside. Justinius gazed over the ornate railing with some trepidation at the long drop below them. The view of the surrounding city, the lake to one side and the mountains to the other, was impressive enough to draw his gaze over the edge.

They crossed the wide bridge and, upon entering through double doors, were led into an inner atrium where Falehiem turned to them. “The baths are through those doors. On the other side are the dormitories. Fresh bedding and clothes have been laid out for you. I hope you do not mind, we took the liberty of purchasing various sizes of tunics from the Carxandrian markets. If these do not satisfy you, we have plenty of our own clothing we are willing to lend.”

As the men began to swarm to the baths, Ardellius took Justinius by the arm. “Let’s go! I’ve been waiting so long to smell like something other than sweat and horse!”

“Senators,” called Falehiem, and Laurentius and Justinius stopped. “I am afraid you two must remain. Your audience with the Aequendar council is immediate. Our high prince, Mephanor, has arrived in Salucenti for this reason and is not to be delayed.”

“Might we be given a chance to freshen and change?!” asked Laurentius, “We have traveled for weeks!”

“You may change and use a wash basin,” said Falehiem, “But the baths must wait. I am sorry.”

The rest of the noble Aquillans continued to the baths, Ardellius giving Justinius a shrug and moving off. Laurentius grumbled and moved to the opposite doors from the baths. Justinius hesitated behind him, turning back to Falehiem who stood, waiting in the center of the room. Justinius wanted to speak with the Aequendar but, unsure of what to say, he simply stared. He almost hoped the Aequendar would guess his thoughts with his piercing gaze and speak the words for him. Instead, Falehiem smiled kindly and said, “If you wish to speak, Justinius Honerius, we will find the time when not so pressed.”

Justinius nodded and returned the smile before retreating to find some fresh clothes.

Changed into a fresh tunic of deep blue, Justinius joined Laurentius and Falehiem in crossing the bridge back to the building but, instead of taking the elevated platform again, they continued in the opposite direction.

They passed several passages and doors, some of which Justinius wished he could enter as he spotted decorated sitting rooms, gardens, and art galleries. Their path carried them down many staircases that wound in towers or proceeded along grand staircases, lined with railings and supported by pillars. Justinius felt completely lost when they finally reached a large hallway leading to double doors that could allow a giant Homentis through. Falehiem stood before the door which was flanked by two guards in golden armor, the narrow plates fastened tightly together, and a bowled helmet upon their heads with a neck guard. The mask held a stern, gilded expression and they gripped their glaives tightly, standing to attention as the party stopped in front of them.

Falehiem turned to the young men and spoke quickly. “I must enter first and take my place. You will wait out here until the guards let you in. I do not mean to tell you your business, but I would give you advice on how to speak before the council within. High Prince Mephanor is not one to take idle talk spoken in anger or without thought. He is proud and mighty and has reason to be treated with respect. The one you must watch is the other visiting lord, Wilkias. He will find any excuse to degrade or dismiss your kind. And lastly remember, you represent your entire people before the court of the Aequendar. Our memories are long. Do not let your speech reflect badly upon your people.”

He gave them a reassuring nod before entering softly through the double doors. The pair of men stood awkwardly in the silence together, listening to the soft sounds of chatter from within and glancing at the silent guards who stared straight ahead. Justinius turned to Laurentius, unable to bear the continued silence. “Who shall speak? You or…?”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“I will speak,” said Laurentius. “You are awkward and unsure, not a good sign for our people.”

Justinius flushed. “Is this because I’m half-gen?”

Laurentius glanced at him with annoyance. “I do not care how you came into this world. I only know you have spent no time with our people and have no experience in politics or speaking. I will speak, you will back me up.”

Justinius seethed but held himself in check. “I may have no experience as an Aquillan, but I know more of these people than you ever will. I know some of their language and all of our history with them. If you speak in ignorance of both you are likely to insult them without even realizing it.”

Laurentius stared at him with a sour expression, his gaze flicking about in thought. “Then tell me…half-gen, what do you propose we do?”

Justinius stopped to think. “I suppose the wisest course would be to each speak when we know how best to respond.”

Laurentius snorted. “That isn’t practical. How do we know who that would be? We will be talking over each other.”

“I suppose we will just have to figure it out intuitively. I’m not very outspoken by nature. You should lead and I will step in where I see it necessary.”

Laurentius paused to consider the offer before responding. “It will have to suffice.”

A knock came at the door, startling both men. The guards turned to open the doors and stood to attention. “I suppose that’s our cue,” said Laurentius.

He marched forward confidently and Justinius had to move quickly to follow at his shoulder.

The room they entered was astonishing. A giant ceiling held countless lights, many of which flicked about as they were Fatae dancing about the ceiling. There was a long, narrow pool of water separating the main walkway from the rest of the congregation of Aequendar that sat in on a row of seats or stood behind them if there was no more room to sit. Justinius was aware, as he was before, of the massive number of foreign faces peering at him. Their slanted eyes studied him, flat faces following his every move, long hair pulled into elaborate topknots of various styles and often including hair pieces and beads. Their hushed murmurs followed behind him and made his skin crawl in self-consciousness. In this court, he was the stranger among an entirely different race of people.

Massive pillars of polished marble lined the long hall and, at the end of the walkway, a raised dais was placed and held several chairs on either side of a massive throne. Its centerpiece was a half sun, its rays spreading into a fan that melded into the wall and the seat at the center. Falheim sat on a simpler chair beside the throne, his legs crossed and his hands on his lap as he patiently waited for them to arrive. On the other side of the throne was a pale, dark-haired Aequendar with a long, wispy mustache melding into an equally long pointed beard. Wilkias’s gaze was harsh and his bushy eyebrows drawn in with a scowl as he watched them from his hunched position in the chair, his fine dark robes creating the image of a vulture in waiting. On the throne was the greatest Aequendar of all, High Prince Mephanor. His long hair was still fresh in youth and, though black, shone like polished glass. His face could have been carved from stone, short mustache and beard rigid in a passive expression of decorum as he waited, arms on the throne, for the guests to be presented.

Laurentius and Justinius reached the end of the walkway which opened into a circle of tiled floor, a sun painted in the center of it. They stopped shoulder to shoulder and Justinius, unsure what to do, bowed in greeting. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Laurentius hesitate but swiftly follow, his face reddening with embarrassment.

“Rise, Senators of Aquilla,” said Falehiem. He had stood from his chair and now turned to the high prince and spoke in Aequendar. “Tuam Maiestatem, ego wos spectaculum, Laurentius Conditius et Iustinius Honerius, senatores de Aquillam.”

Justinius heard and, though he struggled to understand it fluently, was able to translate Falehiem’s words in his head. Your majesty, I present to you, Laurentius Conditius and Justinius Honerius, senators of Aquilla.

Falehiem turned to the two men and spoke again. “Senators, I present to you, High Prince Mephanor of the Aequendar, ninth of his name, lord of the Great Expanse, Patriam, and all colonies.”

“We are honored,” said Laurentius in a less than convincing tone.

“Indeed, we are,” added Jusitnius, attempting a more polite voice.

The high prince seemed unimpressed by either tone as he remained relaxed on the throne. He spoke in Aquillan, surprising both men, as Falehiem sat once again. “I understand you are the emissaries sent from the Aquillan Republic. We would have you respond to the incursion into our forests northwest of this island.”

“Your Majesty,” said Falehiem. “I had not thought to…”

“And to the wholesale slaughter of our soldiers and workers,” added Laurentius.

The prince's eyebrow raised only. “Indeed. And the slaughter of both men and Elfin.”

“Quamquam solum ocissus est,” stated Wilkias.

Both men stared at him, Justinius unsure exactly what he had murmured. Something about one murdered. It wasn’t promising.

“Indeed,” said Mephanor, “But nothing can be resolved if we cannot move past the visible effect to the source.”

“Your majesty,” said Laurentius, taking the lead, “You called us here. Perhaps you could tell us what you hope to resolve in our meeting?”

“It was not I that called you,” replied the prince. “I am here on other matters. It was Lord Falehiem who summoned you here. That I can speak on behalf of my people is…coincidental.”

He spoke the last part sarcastically, turning to Falehiem who rose once again from his seat. “As the sole witness to the events, I would recount what happened. The Aquillan woodsmen have ever taken supplies from our home. We allowed them as long as they refrained from venturing too far within. When they wandered further in to harvest the older and stronger trees, they discovered an Elfin village, peacefully making their existence among the trees. They contacted the local commander and he, led by some nefarious motivation, ransacked the village and destroyed its innocent occupants.”

Laurentius stepped in. “At which point, your people slaughtered every single soldier and worker who was there. How many of those workers were innocent and merely doing their jobs? How many soldiers were killed by the foolish actions of one commander? Unlike your Elfin, none of them escaped save one!”

“Tu causa est-” began Wilkias before being cut off by a raised hand from Mephanor.

The high prince spoke again. “Aquillan, if you seek to call your men innocent, you are mistaken. The man who performs the evil orders of an evil man is no better than the evil he serves…only more pathetic.”

“Is that the excuse you use to justify killing all of them?” asked Laurentius.

Justinius tried to hold in his frustration, panic rising in him. Luckily, Mephanor seemed unimpressed. “I have no need to justify anything. We have enacted the policy, ‘Oculus pro oculum’. But to continue such a policy with a neighbor never ends with one eye but the carcass of the whole body laid bare for the crows. Lord Falehiem has asked me to proctor the negotiations on how your nations will proceed from this point onward.”

“What policy?” Laurentius whispered to Justinius.

“Eye for an eye,” said Justinius.

Laurentius turned to Lord Falehiem, “And, since you were there, did you kill our men?”

“Don’t push this,” whispered Justinius.

Falehiem turned to them and nodded. “I did. They had murdered our brethren, most innocent and gentle. I am not proud of the action, but it was necessary to send a clear message. Our people will not tolerate with passivity the destruction of our land and its occupants. But, with the message established, it is required that we initiate healthy contact with one another lest more blood should be shed.”

“That is wise,” said Justinius, stepping in before Laurentius could continue. “What did you have in mind, Lord Falehiem?”

Falehiem nodded to him gratefully. “It would seem that our people, since the war with Aquilla, have been on peaceful but inhospitable terms. Your men have felt it necessary to delve further into our forests for greater resources. Our people have ever been driven to the corners of the world as our decline continues and the strength of humanity dominates all the earth. We would not see what little we have dwindled further. If you are willing, we would compromise by establishing a trade of resources between our people. Not only will you gain the resources you seek but our nations may begin to see each other not as enemies but as potential allies.”

There was a pause, the echo of whispers the only sound in the hall. A snort broke the silence as Wilkias spoke up once again. “Tu es demens, Falehiem. Haec Lutominus pax non desiderium. Bella est in cordas…ei semper faciat.”

“What does he say?” asked Laurentius.

Justinius murmured a reply, “He called us…men of clay I think. He believes we have war in our hearts and always have. It's my understanding that he believes we aren’t to be trusted.”

“If that is true,” said Laurentius, speaking to the Aequendar rulers, “Then we are no different than every other living thing. All things struggle for life. Can you claim your people are any different?”

The murmur of the crowd grew louder. Wilkias glared venomously at them and Falehiem smiled. Mephanor held his neutral expression as he spoke. “Our people are only here because of our own folly and love for power and war. We understand, better than most, what that cost of war is. I believe I speak for Falehiem as well when I say we have no interest in war with your people. Unless your people are a direct threat against our existence or to the peace of the world, then we do not desire conflict.”

“He speaks wisely,” said Falehiem. “And he speaks as I would. If your people desire wood from our greater trees, we would bargain for it, not fight over it.”

“And what do you propose?” asked Laurentius. “Would you accept our currency?”

“We have no use for it,” said Falehiem.

“Then what?”

“What has been the currency since the beginning of time,” said Falehiem. “Bartering for resources.”

“What would you need from us?” asked Justinius.

“Food,” was Falehiem’s quick response. “Many of our homes are no longer in the open plains of the world. All the fertile land of our past is gone. Now, we must work hard and trade for much of our food. If you would be willing to trade grain for wood, I’m sure we could find a compromise.”

“Nisi addidicium granum non habent,” said Wilkias, sarcasm in his voice. “Etiam nunc eorus populus sunt famelicum.” Unless they don’t have additional grain. Even now his people are starving.

Justinius stepped in to speak. “It is true, our people are hungry. We do not have much to give now. But perhaps, in the near future, we will have what you seek.”

Mephanor eyed him carefully, his gaze unflinching. “Though it is impressive for one of your kind to remember the mother language we taught to you, your statement is worrying. If you cannot support your own people, is it no wonder you steal from us?”

“We do not steal,” said Laurentius. “Those lands belong to Aquilla. It was settled in the previous war with your people.”

“But the border within the woods was never established,” said Falheim. “We simply retreated within.”

“Then perhaps drawing up borders would be more advantageous,” said Mephanor, “If trade cannot be established.”

Justinius shook his head. “That would only patch a festering wound. I don’t think that would resolve it in the end.”

“Satius habes salutium?” Wilkias asked. You’d rather be saved?

“Non sum!” snapped Justinius. “Sed cor meus sciret…id esse inuriam.” Not so. But my heart would know…that would be wrong.

A silence met the ensemble at his words. Laurentius looked extremely uncomfortable and annoyed with Justinius as he whispered, “What are you saying?!”

Justinius ignored him but stared at Falehiem. He hoped part of his speech made sense to him. He too, wanted to speak truth, like the Aequendar. Falehiem nodded and smiled. “You are right. It does feel wrong. But until there is a proper solution, it is a start.”

Mephanor rose from his seat and the assembly of Aequendar rose swiftly from their seats to match him. “I am finished with this for now,” said the high prince. “A temporary solution is presented. We will continue talks when there is more to be said. In the meantime, Senators, you and your men are welcome here. There will be a feast and celebration tomorrow night in your honor.”

He raised a hand and waved it to the court. “Pax omnibus,” he called before turning to leave.

Justinius bowed again and Laurentius followed him. They turned together and he hissed at Justinius. “I’ll let you lead. That was a load of dung.”