Jay found it a great relief to finally relax for an extended period of time. Their two days in Pleurian had been plagued by one crisis after another, all of which they had been unprepared for and some their own stupid fault. They almost cried the first time they woke up in their assigned hammock in Gzoh’s wagon and could just lie there in peace for a while. Nothing occupying their mind except their mantra, and deciding on what to draw during the day.
Jay drew the bunches of herbs hanging around the interior. They didn’t want to strain their back much for at least another few days.
It was also nice to be around kind people that didn’t ask anything of them aside from taking time to rest and care for themself, and weren’t bothered by their incessant ignorant questions. Or waking up too late and going to sleep too early. Or drawing everything and everyone.
Jeshin was also a surprisingly decent wagonmate, for a snake.
She walked around fully armored and kept hovering every time Jay was alone outside, even when they went to relieve themself, which was annoyingly paranoid. But that was also Jeshin’s job, so Jay would bear the inconvenience.
She, blessedly, left them alone otherwise. Jay rarely saw her except for at night, and the two talked even more rarely. Jeshin was a woman of few grunts, which suited Jay just fine.
The journey also gave them time to reflect on things they had delayed during the crisis. Feed the mistakes into their mantra and analyze what happened with a clear mind. How they could do better. And that was much less of a relief.
Jay had been made a fool of in Pleurian, both by themself and others. They had been ignorant, childish, spineless, cowardly, and more. It was an unmitigated disaster, and the only saving grace was that Yeon and Amber were kind people who did not hold Jay’s failures against them.
Yeon had said they saved her life, but that was obviously just her humoring them. And for some reason Amber even entrusted them with this quest. Either because they were too lazy to do it themself, or as a transparent ploy to make Jay feel better.
Either way those acts of trust and kindness were more than Jay deserved, a fact that burned in them and twisted their chest. There was only one way to make it up to Yeon and Amber, and that was not repeating their mistakes and failing this quest. No matter what.
To do that they needed to learn diplomacy, plus learn more about the aether and how to plead a case with one. They needed to be kinder, and not push their personal hurts onto others like they had with Jeshin.
But how do I learn diplomacy? Jay thought, Even Tai didn’t have a course on that. It’s not like I’m a Doge who can afford tutoring from some pryns’ third child or something.
But wait. Wasn’t Gzoh a diplomat, of sorts, being peace speaker? Maybe Jay could ask her to teach them.
Jay broached the subject with her that night, ten days and three towns into the Ufriq’s journey towards Two Crosses.
"Sure," Gzoh mumbled into her pillow from the hammock below theirs. Jay barely heard her over the creaking of the moving wagon.
"I can teach you diplomacy. You are an accountant aren’t you? Go ask Chuhin to show you our books tomorrow."
What does that have to do with diplomacy? Jay wondered.
They asked, but Gzoh was already asleep.
PIC [https://scythiamarrow.org/archive/SplinterGuard/Art/SectionMarkerJay.png]
Jay quickly understood what Gzoh was getting at when even finding Chuhin proved frustratingly difficult. The peace speaker was gone when they woke up, so they couldn’t ask her their whereabouts, and the few people they knew in the caravan proved little help.
Jay started by asking Tore and Drao. The couple lived in a wagon that usually traveled a few dozen arms to the northeast of Gzoh’s wagon, and they were both lovely people. Jay had drawn them portraits of each other in return for some ribbons and feathers to wear in their hair, enchanted with a touch of copper dust to stand straight and not tangle. Drao said the feathers made them look absolutely dashing.
"Gosh he could be anywhere," Tore replied, "You could try the baggage train? He takes inventory there sometimes."
Jay waved to them and made their way towards the middle of the loose column and the wagons carrying the Ufriq’s communal and trade goods. It was quite a distance, taking them almost ten minutes, and while the caravan moved slower than a slow walk it never stopped. The Ufriq even had a way to swap the draft raptors of a moving wagon. Jay had drawn the process, but still didn’t understand it fully.
As soon as Jay lost sight of Tore and Drao’s home Jeshin appeared just behind their right shoulder, as if by magic, keeping pace with them and scanning the woods.
"How do you even do that?" Jay griped.
Jeshin just smiled.
"Trade secret," She said.
Of course it was. At least she wasn’t armed. The look on her face when Gzoh locked away her halberd had been priceless. Like a sailor’s wife watching her beloved disappear over the horizon.
But when they arrived at the baggage train Chuhin was nowhere to be found. The supply train was large, consisting of nearly twenty wagons and eight times as many raptors, both resting and working, but there were almost no humans around. Just a handful of mushers, a cook, and a three people eating a late breakfast in the kitchen wagon. The latter of which waved at them to come and sit. Jay obliged.
Jeshin elected to slowly walk beside the open side of the wagon, despite there being plenty of room to sit at the counter.
"So Jeshin, who is your friend?" One of the diners, a Cliaman man, asked. "I haven’t seen them around."
"It’s Jay!" Another said, this one a Haco woman, "You know, her friend she keeps complaining about. Like how they ran off without her three days ago and she lost track of them for the longest time."
It was only five minutes! Okay, maybe ten. Jay turned on Jeshin.
"You made friends," Jay said in disbelief, "With the people you tried to slander."
"With the people I succeeded in slandering, yes," Jeshin said, "We drink together. I have to do something when you are asleep. You retire so early, when it’s barely dark out. And wake up hours after sunrise."
"Because my spine is broken," Jay hissed, "And it’s your stupid spell that saps my alertness keeping it stable."
Jeshin looked about to snap, but before she could the same friend interrupted.
"I’m sure Jeshin didn’t mean to insult you, Jay," She said, "We all understand why you keep your schedule, and none of us think any less of you for it."
Jay appreciated the attempt to make peace, but that was just untrue. Jeshin relished insulting them and took every opportunity to do so.
"How about you introduce us, Jeshin?" The Haco woman continued.
"Jay, this is Tria, Ethan, and Threy" Jeshin said, indicating the Haco woman, the Cliaman man, and a Haco bee peeking their head out from behind the two.
"Tria, Ethan, Threy, this is Jay." She finished.
Tria looked at her for a few moments, expecting a more detailed introduction, but Jeshin just grunted in satisfaction and did not elaborate.
After a few moments, Threy piped up.
"Do you want some breakfast?" They asked Jay, "Have you ever had spicy scrambled eggs?"
Jay nodded hesitantly.
"I have had it, once. There is a street kitchen near the wharf which serves Ufriq food. It was good," They said.
"Oh but the real deal is so much better!" Threy enthused, "You have to try it!"
Jay had already eaten, but felt compelled to accept out of politeness. The cook whipped up a batch in mere heartbeats, and it was a large one.
Jay took one bite and realized that they had made a mistake. Joinder was known for its spices. Massive amounts flowed through its docks and warehouses, bound for every port on Loerma and even beyond to Storohg and Okishin. Pepper, saffron, cumin, cloves, coriander, nutmeg, cinnamon, sugar, salt, turmeric, ginger...
This was something else entirely, no pleasant tingle or sharp tang but a low and burning heat out of the deepest hells. It felt like they had just taken a bite of hot magma straight from a forge in the Queendom Under.
And I ribbed on Ohcoh for not handling spice, Jay thought, If this is what she felt like when eating pepper mushrooms I owe her an apology.
It probably was. The Lua had assigned them all the worst accounts for a week after that.
"Do you like it?" Trey asked, "Not even close to the same, right?"
How do I escape this situation diplomatically? Jay thought, instinctually. They felt a slight shock of understanding.
Jay was starting to piece together Gzoh’s lesson. Diplomacy only happened between people that didn’t know or trust each other already. Jay couldn’t learn it by talking to those they already knew, those whose trust they had built slowly over time like Gzoh or Tore and Drao.
They needed to talk to people they didn’t know, figure out how to build trust quicker and... without truly understanding the other person? Jay still didn’t get that part.
How can I trust someone I don’t understand? Jay thought, How can others trust me if they don’t understand me?
It was completely different from anything they had experienced before. It went counter to everything they had ever learned about how people worked.
Why did Amber say I was better at diplomacy than Jeshin? Jay thought, I made fewer friends in ten days than she did in two. I don’t understand that aether.
But... Jay did trust Amber. Trust them to at least always aim for the betterment of the world. Even if they were a self-righteous hedonist and a bit of a petty jerk.
Trust without understanding, huh? That was weird.
"Wow, that face never gets old," Jeshin said, "You broke them, Threy. They can’t handle the spice, and don’t know how to let you down gently."
"Not true!" Jay said, "It just surprised me."
They took another bite. This one was more manageable; their tongue must have been burned past the point of feeling.
"I absolutely love it, Threy. It really is unlike anything in Joinder," Jay said, and it was technically the truth. "Do I detect a vague smokey flavor? The wharf place didn’t have that."
Threy nodded.
"Yup," They said, "We use raptor eggs, you can’t get those in large numbers outside a caravan or the northern wilds. They spoil too easily when unfertilized."
"And we never use fertilized eggs," Ethan said, "The mothers can tell which is which, and get viciously protective."
Jay nodded and took another bite. The situation was salvaged, now it was time to politely extricate themself before they spontaneously combusted. They flailed around mentally for a solution, and settled on throwing Jeshin overboard as a stopgap.
"Do you want any?" Jay asked her, "I already ate quite a bit this morning."
Jeshin shrugged.
"Sure, I can save a bee in distress. It’s my job after all," Jeshin said. She took the plate and dug in, seemingly unaffected by the spice. That was unfair, but at least it allowed Jay to turn to other matters.
"I’m not just here to chat, as lovely as you all are," Jay said, "I’m actually looking for Chuhin. Do you know where he is?"
Tria nodded.
"Yes, actually," she said, "He took a few Contour wagons to the east to trade with a village. What was its name again?"
"Cilethi," Ethan chimed in, "It’s about a half hour east on raptorback. It has a monastery nearby, which tends bees and fruit trees."
"Does it make beer?" Threy asked.
"It probably makes mead," Ethan said, "Not sure about beer."
"I hope it makes beer, we have been running low" Threy griped.
"Only because you drink it all," Jeshin said. She handed the plate of eggs back to Jay. There was a solid amount left, which was definitely on purpose.
"Thanks for sharing," She said, "I was famished, and it was both delicious and pleasantly spicy."
She gave them a wink. What an unpleasant person. Jay’s stopgap hadn’t so much failed as exploded in their face. Time to improvise.
"I think I’ll take this with me and eat it on the road," Jay said, "I would love to catch up to Chuhin before he finishes trading."
Jeshin stifled a bark of laughter. So she could be mildly tactful on occasion.
"Oh that’s going to take most of the day," Tria said, "You have plenty of time."
"No, really, I must insist," Jay said, "On account of... my back, you see. I have to save my energy as much as possible, so as delightful as it would be to stay I really must be going."
They quickly bowed and left before one of Jeshin’s new friends thought to raise another objection. Or realized that they had ’accidentally forgotten’ the leftovers.
The mercenary followed behind them, always one step behind and one to the right, like a teal shadow. A teal shadow that was still stifling giggles.
"So do you have any idea where we are going?" Jeshin asked. "Or how to request a raptor?"
Jay had preferred it when she spoke in grunts, not insulting insinuations.
"I’m working on it," Jay snapped back, "Maybe help instead of being snide."
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"Sure," Jeshin said, "I’d be happy to."
She walked up to one of the mushers, an Athnat with a nasty scar above his cheek.
"Hey, Ustha," Jeshin called, "We need to snag Tufaha and Kitambaa for a couple of hours, we will be back before sundown."
Ustha nodded and whistled before calling in Lugha.
"Tufaha, Kitambaa, njoo hapa" He said.
Two raptors followed the call and approached the man. Jay recognized them as the same ones they and Jeshin had ridden before.
Ustha took a couple of saddles from a baggage wagon and started preparing the mounts. Jeshin rushed forward to help him. The Ufriq gave her a few small corrections in Lugha, but ultimately seemed satisfied with her work.
"Since when do you know Lugha?" Jay complained, "I’ve only barely managed to pick up a couple of words."
"I asked my friends to teach me, Jay," Jeshin said, "Not everyone is mortally afraid of asking for help like you are."
"You Lugha still shit," Ustha commented in broken Rhina, "But funny shit."
He wiped his hands on his robes, then jogged away to break up a small spat between two young raptors.
Jay clambered onto Tufaha and glared daggers at Jeshin as she mounted Kitambaa with polished grace.
"Not everyone is as paranoid as you are," Jay retorted, "I bet you only asked as part of a weird battle plan you made in case the Ufriq, who are pacifists by the way, turn on you."
"Of course I did," Jeshin replied breezily, "That’s just good strategy. Besides, I’m not so sure about the pacifism. You should have seen the ordinance they kept in the armory."
"I did see it," Jay said, "When you were pining after your halberd like it was your estranged lover. What you call ordinance was standard monster killing gear, nothing more."
"I meant the spells, Jay," Jeshin said, "I couldn’t understand most of the formula but I could understand parts of some, and they were all circle workings that could level a small city."
That was impossible. It would take over a thousand skilled mages to work a circle that could level even a town as small as Pleurian. And that was already larger than the largest circle working ever attempted in human history.
Something the size of Joinder? A couple million. There were barely that many Ufriq on the entire continent.
Jay rolled their eyes.
"I’m serious, Jay," Jeshin continued, "I’ve seen a lot of destructive circle formula, and I have never seen anything remotely near the scale of those."
"I’m sure you have," Jay said. With venom. "While you were busy killing people for money. Not the best experience for understanding spells made by pacifists."
Jeshin ground her teeth.
"Fuck you, Jay," She said, "I’m not part of the Throats anymore. And even when I was I wasn’t some bloodthirsty monster. I thought you were starting to get that."
"No, fuck you, Jeshin," Jay countered, "I’ll never get you, and don’t especially want to. The Ufriq may forgive you for what you did to them, but I’m not Ufriq. You don’t get to pretend that it was okay, that it all worked out in the end. It was evil. I won’t forgive you for it."
"You think I don’t get that?" Jeshin said, "Of course it was evil. It was a shit situation. A uniquely shit situation that will never happen again. All I had were evil choices, and I made the one I could live with. I don’t regret it.
"I don’t expect or want your forgiveness, so stop treating me like I’m ignorant. I know full well what I did. I’d much rather willingly do evil if I have to than be ignorant or powerless to help those I care about."
That was unsettlingly close to Jay’s thoughts about Amber’s boon. That the sheer power afforded by such a request would make up for any mortal failings exposed when wielding it.
There is a fundamental difference between asking Amber to end hunger no matter the cost and slandering strangers to cover up an injustice, Jay thought. Even if both could harm people. One harms the powerful, one the powerless.
The thought felt hollow. More like an excuse than a well thought out principle. Which meant they should apologize for insulting Jeshin. Again. But how?
Sorry for assuming you were a good person at heart, just incompetent, instead of a competent monster? Jay thought. I’m sure that will work out well. Besides, it’s not quite right.
Jay eventually just grunted in apology. For some miraculous reason Jeshin accepted the tacit gesture with a nod, not a barb. It seemed that her preferred language had many depths to it Jay had only barely begun to glimpse.
They rode towards the town of Cilethi, and Jay experienced that wonderful sense of speed and wind for the second time. It felt less magical than the first.
PIC [https://scythiamarrow.org/archive/SplinterGuard/Art/SectionMarkerJay.png]
Cilethi was slightly smaller the Pleurian, housing perhaps two hundred people. The main square boasted a carpenter-cooper and an apothecary, but not a smithy or a school. The road was well maintained, and from what Jay could see of stone towers poking up above the treetops the monastery was impressive indeed.
Unlike Pleurian, Cilethi had a tavern inn complete with an attached stable. There were a remarkable number of people sitting outside it drinking, perhaps two dozen, and it was not yet noon.
Threy is in luck, Jay thought, Most are drinking beer.
The stables overflowed with horses, and a veritable heap of carriages and wagons were parked next to the square. Jay had been in the business of trade long enough to know a blockage when they saw one.
Somewhere in Varmyr a Doge is throwing a tantrum about their goods being delayed, Jay thought, I wonder what caused it?
The thought moved to the back of their mind when Jay spotted what must have been Chuhin and a few other Ufriq talking to some of the blocked traders. They commanded Tufaha to move in that direction, and the raptor obliged with a sharp whistle. Jeshin followed, as always.
Chuhin was Rhin, with the same curly hair and rounded ears as Jay, but he was unusually tall, standing head and shoulders above the caravan traders. He had long, golden blonde ringlets and brown eyes, but no hint of freckles, and his nose was crooked. He wore the sensible linen pants and heavy cotton jacket of a proper Joinderite, and Jay would have thought he was one of the traders if not for the feathers he wore in his ears and the way the other Ufriq attended to his every word.
"This book is water damaged," Chuhin said, "I cannot trade it for only one of ours. Could you bear to part with another one as well, Yiby?"
He was talking to a Rhin man, Yiby apparently, who was shorter than even Jay but impeccably well dressed in the latest Joinder fashion. The trader sported no less than five lackeys, an impressive number for a traveling merchant, and each was as pretty, polished, and intelligent as they were superfluous. Only one person ever did the negotiating in Varmyr.
Jay had been lackey to a higher up at the firm a few times, and it was always both a nerve-wracking and boring experience. They must be perfectly groomed and polished, pay close attention to the client, take excellent notes, produce the correct documents at all the right times, and never speak a word except when answering a direct technical question. Which rarely happened.
It payed well, though. Jay always ate at a nice restaurant the day afterwards.
"We do not have any more books we are willing to part with," Yiby said, "But we have several collections of broadsheets."
Jay snorted internally. A single hand-calligraphed book was worth a thousand mass-printed broadsheets. And that was a transparent lie, besides. Practically all monks did beside pray was copy books and brew alcohol. Yiby had definitely taken the time to snag a few copies of rare or important works from the monastery while in town. In return for a sizable "donation" to the House, of course.
"That would be an excellent compromise," Chuhin said, "We are missing entire months of ’Bay Tidings’ and ’Hillsport Daily’."
Wait, what? Jay hurriedly dismounted and told Tufaha to stay put, then rushed towards the traders. The raptor gave a small chirp of annoyance but, thankfully, obeyed. They still had time to salvage this deal.
"He’s lying," Jay said as they arrived, "He definitely has better manuscripts he’s willing to trade. And even a years worth of broadsheets wouldn’t cost a tiny fraction of what one of your manuscripts does. I bet he could sell each one for three times what he could get for one of the monk’s works."
Yiby turned angrily towards them.
"I thought Chuhin was your trade leader, whelp," He said, "Do all Ufriq have the terrible manners to speak over their betters? If Chuhin had wanted your fool opinion he would have asked for it."
Jay flushed. They had been so caught up in the moment that they hadn’t thought this through. They had treated Chuhin as if he didn’t know what he was doing, not like a fellow professional.
"We are all equal travelers treading different paths," Chuhin said, "I was chosen to speak with you out of respect to your customs, but Jay is by no means my better and may do as they wish.
"It seems that they wished to point out an unfair trade. Is this true? Have you been deceiving us, Yiby?"
"I have not done so knowingly, of course," Yiby said. His voice had the buttery smooth affect of a seasoned liar. "But let me make certain."
Yiby snapped his fingers and a lackey placed a document in his hand. He made a show of reading it as if he didn’t already know its contents.
"Ah, it seems as if I did mislead you unintentionally," He said, "We have just picked up a trio of hand copied manuscripts from Amalin Monastery, including a rare first copy original work on local herbs and mushrooms. We are willing to part with each of them in exchange for one of your works."
"Jay seemed to indicate you would be willing to part with two for each one of ours," Chuhin said, "I think such a deal would be much more fair, would it not?"
Yiby let out a strangled noise. Ah, the sweet sound of a well done trade.
"I would be willing to make that trade," Yiby said, "But not for the original work. I can give you these three, plus the water damaged one, for two of yours."
Chuhin nodded.
"Agreed," He said, "Now let us move on to foodstuffs."
PIC [https://scythiamarrow.org/archive/SplinterGuard/Art/SectionMarkerJay.png]
"Thank you for your help, Jay," Chuhin said as the group made their way back towards the caravan, newly laden with trade goods. And yes, plenty of beer. "You have a head for numbers. I’ve never met someone who can judge monetary value so precisely with just a glance before."
"Thank you," Jay said, "It’s one of my best skills."
Chuhin shook their head.
"It wasn’t just a compliment," Chuhin said, "Evaluating everything like that, judging things only by how much they can sell for, it’s dangerous. You risk losing sight of what things are actually worth."
That made no sense. Things were worth what others were willing to pay for them. That was the entire thrust behind modern economic theory. It was why Varmyr’s banks could become so fabulously rich by trading on trust and fractional holdings.
Chuhin was probably not referring to the technical definition of ’worth’, though, but rather something more abstract.
"If you mean judging people like that," Jay said, "I know it’s bad, and I’m working on it. But I do like how I can stop powerful people like Yiby from taking advantage of others. He was going to legally rob you blind and act like nothing was wrong."
Chuhin nodded.
"He was certainly aiming to do so," He said, "But had you been a bit patient with my strategy you may have seen it yield better results.
"There is a reason I always start trades with knowledge, not vitals or luxuries. Knowledge is where the Ufriq shine the most compared to most other peoples, and by letting others feel like they have gotten the better of us early on in a negotiation they are more willing to concede things that are more unimportant to them later on, like food or tea. Both of which we struggle to make on our own."
Jay nodded. That made sense. It was like those pie shops on the wharf which offered small free samples of the day’s fillings. Jay had taken shameless advantage when they were a student, but it worked out for the shop more often than not. Although...
"Except the manuscripts were worth more than the rest of the goods put together," Jay said, "That seems like a losing strategy."
"Only if you are playing the Varmyr game," Chuhin said.
’The Varmyr game’ was a popular, if unflattering, way to refer to the Varmyr Republic’s labyrinthine set of contracts, wealth, trade deals, social privileges, and politics. If you played the game well, you became a Doge. If you played it poorly, you were tossed into the streets.
Or at least, that was what the Doges liked to say. Jay had known several people who played the game better than them but still struggled, and many rich fops who played it like complete fools and were rewarded for it. The rich loved cheating, after all.
"What other game is there to play?" Jay asked.
Chuhin chuckled.
"You will see when you study the books. They are what you wanted to see, right?" He asked.
"Yes," Jay said, "Though I may be a bit rusty. I haven’t done a serious audit in nearly a month."
Jay was being humble. They were very, very good at their job. Chuhin unlocked the records wagon for them, and sat reading while Jay worked through the records. They were thankfully written in Rhina, not Lugha, but did have some Lugha annotations that Chuhin had to translate for them.
In the five hours it took them to read through the past ten years of records, Jay found fifty minor inconsistencies and two major ones that pointed to some form of corruption within the Ufriq.
One of them Chuhin already knew about and was okay with. Threy liked to drink more than their share of liquor, apparently, and was stealing bottles from the common luxury pool to keep in a private stash.
"She pays for it from an inheritance she received before she joined the path," Chuhin said, "And is not abusing the drink like I feared at first. She mostly shares it with others. I am of the opinion that it is technically trading in gold, but it is not my place to judge other’s interpretation of their own path."
"And this other one?" Jay prompted, "Small gifts of luxuries, regularly spaced out, usually when in the Princedoms, and only after a valuable enchanted cloth has been marked as destroyed. Summing up to about a tenth of the approximate gold value of the cloth each time?"
Chuhin’s face darkened.
"Someone is selling our enchantments in return for luxuries," Chuhin growled, "That is absolutely unacceptable."
"Or," Jay said, "In return for favors, or items smuggled in with the luxuries. It’s what I would do."
Chuhin looked at them, aghast.
"I meant, if I was the criminal sort who wanted to steal from you," Jay hurriedly explained, "I would never do such a thing."
Chuhin did not look overly convinced, but dropped the subject.
"Do you want me to investigate further?" Jay asked, "I have a lot of time on my hands right now."
"No," Chuhin said, "You have been a wonderful guest to us, but you are still that. A guest. It would be wrong for an outsider to investigate this matter. I will do it myself."
Jay nodded. Fair enough.
"What I don’t get," They said, changing the subject, "Is why you have three currencies. Knowledge, essentials, luxuries."
Chuhin nodded.
"One spell formula or page of text, a ’bongo’: brain. Food enough for one day of sustenance for a person and their raptor, a ’chawi’: gizzard. One pound of tea, an ’oyo’ or heart," Chuhin explained, "They are great units for understanding the health of our stores at a glance."
"Yes, and I love it," Jay said, "But you never exchange between them. It’s inefficient. Say you have a surplus of food one year, or of luxuries another. Right now you can do nothing about it, but with a common currency you could make up the deficit by trading between the two.
"I know you don’t trade in gold, but modern economic theory explains that money doesn’t actually need to be backed by the stuff anyway. It can be backed by institutional trust instead, which is a great way to get around the problems with gold like it being heavy and difficult to move or protecting it from thieves.
"The Varmyr central bank opened only a few years ago and it’s already super successful at facilitating large transactions and ensuring trust in Varmyr banks, most of which are now fractional reserve and all of which are both the most trusted for deposits and largest lenders of any power on the continent."
Jay paused to take a breath.
"You could do the same thing!" They enthused, "The Ufriq are already fabulously wealthy in knowledge and enchantments, with proper policy you could become a true economic powerhouse."
Chuhin looked at them like they had just grown fangs and eaten a human face.
"I see now why Gzoh sent you this way," He said, "Tell me Jay, do you think we do not know this already? That it has never occurred to us to trade in gold, to lend valuables to those who wish to better their lives in exchange for a small interest?"
Jay flushed.
"I mean, modern economics is only a few years old, and not well known outside of Varmyr. I just assumed." They said. Lamely.
"Without fail, every time a caravan trades in gold or lends money to outsiders, it is either robbed for it or attacked." Chuhin said. "We are pacifists, Jay. If a pryns or legion wishes to steal from us, they may do so without any fear of consequence. They do not do so now because our wealth is carried in fragile knowledge, delicate customs, and strong connections across Loerma.
"No legion will attack us if the only thing they stand to gain is a paltry sum of gold and ashes of the knowledge we preserve for them over millennia.
"And even now, some prynses partake in a custom known as the ’caravan tax’. A pretty word for when they send knights after us to demand all of our loose gold, then thank us for our services in ’safekeeping’ it for them."
Jay had never seen any Ufriq this incensed before. They had half expected Gzoh’s stories of politics and discord between the clans to have been made up.
Chuhin’s rant continued.
"And what would we have to gain from this?" He asked, rhetorically, "Just the burden of knowing that every sip of tea we enjoy, all of our knowledge and luxury, is taken from those less fortunate.
"We do not have a common currency because we do not wish to have it," Chuhin said, "I can enjoy my tea in peace while I know that there are people starving in your home, Jay. Because I know that my luxury has no power over their suffering. I cannot trade one for the other. But you? You could have traded your luxury for their food. Why do you not?"
Jay was taken aback by the direct attack. It’s not like they didn’t understand the problems of their own home. Or had the power to fix them.
Ah, They thought, This is how the Ufriq feel when I bumble around asking stupid questions. Mildly offended, slightly confused, and a bit hurt. But nothing too bad.
Chuhin was not trying to make them feel evil, or ignorant. They just couldn’t understand what Jay knew so deeply they hadn’t even bothered to question for their entire life.
"I don’t know," Jay said, "It sounds horrible when you put it that way. But I have never known anything different. And everyone needs small luxuries now and then."
Chuhin chuckled.
"That they do. And I don’t begrudge yours. Do you want some tea?" He said.
Jay nodded. They didn’t just want some tea, they needed some tea. Maybe a pastry.
"Yes, please."
The two chatted for a bit about less heavy topics for a while, until the waning light of day and Jay’s mounting exhaustion forced them to retire back to Gzoh’s wagon.
For once Jeshin didn’t appear at their side for the return journey, and Jay spent a few minutes enjoying some isolated time just standing in the forest. Savoring the crisp air that was just cold enough to sting on a deep breath.
Gzoh was knitting when Jay arrived at the wagon and threw themself into their hammock.
"So, do you know diplomacy now?" Gzoh asked. "I’m a great teacher, aren’t I? Praise my profound pedagogical prowess."
Praise her profound pedagogical prowess? Perhaps her presently peculiar phrase picks portended potential political posturing.
Or, Jay thought, She rarely has a chance to practice Rhina at the level required for a diplomat, and doesn’t want to risk acting the fool in front of her other friends.
"Polishing your prodigious polyglot powers I see. They are quite impressive." Jay said.
Gzoh nodded in response, but did not seem overly affected by Jay just praising their skill in general. Drat.
"But no, I did not magically learn diplomacy in one day." Jay continued. "I’m still the worst diplomat I know. I am absolutely terrible at it."
"Right you are," Gzoh confirmed, "On both counts. You have a way with Rhina that I admire, and before meeting you I would have thought it impossible for a grown adult to be so insufferably ignorant they could get under my skin in two sentences."
Jay nodded eagerly.
"Yep!" They said, "I was being very rude. I totally apologize for that, by the way."
Gzoh waved her stitching dismissively. Was it the start of a sock or a hat? Jay didn’t know enough about stitching to tell.
"It was abundantly clear from the start that you did not mean any harm by your questions," Gzoh said, "There is no need to apologize for being ignorant and genuinely curious. Especially to me, whose path focuses on answering such questions and addressing misunderstandings."
Wow, Jay thought, That was an impressively well rehearsed lie.
"But you are still the best teacher I have ever had," Jay said, "Because while I didn’t learn a single bit of diplomacy, I did learn how to learn diplomacy. By the time we get to Mountaincut, I’ll be ready to talk to Othuxtai."
This time, even though she tried to hide it by focusing on her work, the corners of Gzoh’s mouth twitched upwards ever so slightly at the praise. Success!
Jay would have never seen the expression if they did not know to look for it.