Banon stared off towards the direction the Donai’s spire city was, long away at their border, while the elders prattled and made jokes about his eccentric promise for minutes and minutes.
After most of that finished, Banon resigned to sitting down next to his father. From there, he was content to hear each of the elders' various plans on how to deal with the Pyathen before he presented his own. He wanted all the information first, and deeply valued even Tema’s suggestions, regardless of how much it sounded like he was angling towards some ends of his own, even beyond his perfectly in-character calls to stand in a ground war and be demolished. But Banon tucked that unknown motive away as a more secondary concern.
One exceptional piece of information caught and ripped his mind so far and so fast into one line of thinking he wasn’t sure he could even remember all the steps to his new plan only a moment after formulating it.
“The Donai are sending their princess, not some tertiary member of their house, the next in line for the throne,” Tema spat.
And that was when Banon’s mind began to spin. He hardly even noticed the elders' quibble their various responses among one another after that.
Why would they send her? Did the Pyathen really have that much confidence in their accompanying force of a hundred and forty and the liquid fire launchers to risk such an important figure? He supposed twenty liquid fire launchers were an incredible number to bring mobile through the jungle. They were normally designed around entrenched positions, and so Banon could only assume their mobile versions sacrifice some ammunition capacity. Even still, half of their number alone was surely just to crew those launchers. It was, along with the Enka-purchased crossbows they carried, to be fair, probably enough to deal with anything the Ooura threw at them, like the other elders’ had already said.
While he stared out at the ivory-white spear-point shapes of the Donai’s palace where it peaked over the horizon of tree canopies, it became so obvious. So clear in his mind now. So visceral and certain that he was sure he must be seeing a vision of the future beamed into his mind by Kimitrius.
Maybe he was.
Now he knew what to do, and to his mild amusement, it was what he was already planning from the start. The dragon eagle…
Banon preceded his speech with a raised hand.
The elders, despite themselves, quieted down relatively quickly once they noticed him. The emperor was the last to quiet and didn’t make himself fully silent until Banon made eye contact. His father's prominent nose, cheekbones, and battle-hardened features were nothing like Lonka’s face, which exuded a feeling of poorly suppressed silliness. Banon lacked a certain harshness of his father's predisposition, himself. Though, he supposed the emperor’s harsh mask was a balance on the other side of the scale for his smooth way of speaking, lacking any of the gravel that Banon sounded like he had grinding in the back of his throat when he spoke.
And while most other Ooura, including the other elders here, had hair that was any shade between mahogany and rich red, his father had impossibly crisp, bright, orange locks. Banon’s were even one notch brighter, to the point where, despite the clear difference, his peers his age ever since childhood had always said he had white hair like a Pyathen. Until he out-grew them all, anyway. The one commonality among everyone who sat atop the circle of elders now was their skin, the same grey as a storm cloud filled sky.
He shared a smile with his father before he began angling towards this new proposal, the one that refused to leave the forefront of his mind like a persistent itch. “Elders…” Banon began slowly, deliberately stretching Tema’s irritation. “Is it known without question that the envoy carries the princess of the Donai among them?” Banon made sure he was faced away from Tema when he finished asking, but wasn’t all the way turned around, just enough so he still got to see Tema double over forward in a pained motion from the corner of his eye. Tema didn’t interrupt, though, just sounded like he was trying to grunt out a harsh shit.
Banon rumbled a grunt of acknowledgment in response to it. “I know the six of you, and you, father, have forbade me from this before, and I listened to you then. I will also listen to you now, but only after you listen to my new proposal.”
Banon blinked once, wrangling the words waiting to be spoken until he could make them come out orderly and without improper showing of emotion. “I want to capture the Pyathen princess. But not now, while their guard is high. We must wait until–” Banon was cut off by Tema, causing him to bite his lip to hold the words inside instead of yelling over the elder like he wanted to.
“Their guard will be high every moment until they are back within their own walls! It is an already discussed problem that we have no way around! It would be the same, regardless of the goal, we would have to kill them all to reach her.”
Banon opened his mouth, but it was Brahman filling the silence before he could, and with a newly acquired opinion he had no idea where from. “But why not take them now? By night, perhaps? I, for once, am considering the idea of using Banons ambush tactics on this envoy, even still if he cannot be the one to lead it directly in person. If it would mean access to a royal we could trade the life of for something useful… an antidote for our forever rotten waters from their powder bags carrying death, perhaps. In that case, it would be worth the many lives sacrificed to achieve it. It may even be enough to save us all. Necessary sacrifices will have to be made–”
It was Banon who jumped in before others could this time, barely keeping his voice maintained below roaring levels. “Lives we do not have to spare! This is not like one of my raids. For those, we prepare for weeks, and we only attack groups no larger than twenty. My older brothers, I do not mean to be callous, but is it possible that age has slowed down your attention? We are one chink in our shields away from being relegated to the deep jungle only. An alliance between the Pyathens and Enka like we have heard on the breeze for months now would take us completely off the map.” Banon made sure to look long and hard at Tema and Brahman before finishing. “It is not worth attacking now when there are other ways.”
Tema nodded at him, eager to respond. “Heard talk about? We have heard more than that, but I suppose you have not been here in several days.” Tema seemed very pleased to be in on something Banon was not aware of.
Banon frowned in confusion until his father took mercy on him, thankfully. “The Enka prince Tomuin is to marry the Pyathen princess they send us in this very envoy, and soon,” emperor Poh said. “My forward scouts have watched the envoy for the entire duration since we first spotted them leave their city before the summer festival even started. My scout team has made three calls and responses so far, the same way you came up with, Banon. One permanently stationed watchman and three who ferry the information back to me at regular intervals of time for maximum real-time knowledge. Among other intel of less import, the scout overheard the news while the Pyathen were camped overnight, from some Pyathen on night watch oblivious to the jungle’s habit of hearing those who are not meant to be within it. It is true, the next Donai in succession heads for where we sit as we speak.”
Banon took a moment to insert those new pieces into his puzzle.
His father seemed to take his reaction as him being upset. “I did what I thought you would do, though I do not have the same natural inclination for the decisive right move.”
“No! You did… well. Your scouts did very well!” Banon had to restrain himself. He was struggling to keep it hidden just how perfectly this all played into his hand.
Banon had to focus everything on simply recentering himself, so his next line would not come out sounding like a giddy child, giving Tema more excuse to disagree. “It is my view that we wait until the Pyathen are gone to move on the princess,” Banon concluded, making sure not to be too presumptuous during this tipping point in the conversation.
“You want us to wait until the envoy is on its way home? Why?” his father asked.
“No,” Banon said with a smile. “I want to let them return to their city entirely.”
The elders erupted like a gaggle of parrots caught off guard by a bird of prey.
Banon kept everything hidden, stone-faced, while they squawked. He needed them to think his stakes in this were not so large as an entire empire, but they were. After all, Tema had his own sons, and though it would take one more vote to gain the majority decision for one without the current emperor's blood in their veins, they were just as eligible to rule this empire as he was. What remained of it, anyway.
Banon waited patiently, taking the time to organize his thoughts.
Ever since he had been a boy of ten, and first seen the spire city of the Donai family up close from the tree line, he had dreamed of climbing it. Now, he finally had a good excuse and a plan worthy of a bedtime story about heroes of old. A large part of Banon doubted it would be that easy. He knew it wouldn't, in fact. The Pyathen cities were designed specifically to negate unwanted Ooura climbers.
But Banon had a new plan for that.
A plan based on so many suppositions about both the Pyathen's reasoning for coming, their willingness to bargain, and his own ability to perform a feat considered impossible before the real plan could even begin, that in this moment, about to explain what parts of his plan he could, he felt like an arrow unable to stop itself from loosing toward the many perils underlying each step. It was up to the elders whether to believe him, or laugh him down after he said what he was about to say, and he could not question it since he had made that promise already.
He watched in his minds eye, seeing all of the floating pieces fitting themselves together into the right order. And thus far, besides the slim odds of two crucial steps, he couldn’t spot any gaps too daunting to bridge within his plans. What he presumed, based on the fact the royals were sending their daughter in person, was that his raids on their hunters and gatherers, and especially his recent defense of Bodastam, had struck a deeper cord than he might previously have thought. That was one of the suppositions that needed to be true. Even if it was just morale he was hurting in the grand scheme, it still might be enough to force the Pyathen to come to this negotiation in person like they were. If all of that was true, the Pyathen would have some kind of proposition for them, one that likely involved the ceasing of Banon’s raids.
One that likely involved them offering something in return.
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But that was only the second base truth he needed for his new plan to come true. The first, if he was anyone besides himself, was even more of a long shot than reading the Pyathen’s intentions with their visit perfectly. It was only sheer luck that allowed even the possibility, as well. If he had not stumbled upon the occurrence of the lone dragon eagle repeatedly revisiting that one branch, he wouldn’t even have the initial branch under his feet from which to spring.
But impossible was a word that never quite made the same sense to him as it did to others.
Banon suffocated a smile before it could become obvious.
“Father,” Banon said, just as the chorus of descent and confusion around them was pittering out. “Father, I know it can be done.”
Poh nodded, then shrugged, gesturing in the direction of the other elders. “I believe you. But so must they.”
After the elders had quieted fully, and not until after endruing a long staring down from both father and son, then Banon began to explain what parts of his plan he needed the elders to know, careful not to share too intimately the more extraordinary and unlikely details that might sway them away from accepting it.
“During the negotiation, I plan to feed the flesh of the dragon eagle I will claim to the Donai princess. And after that, she will have the overwhelmingly pungent sweetness the body exudes for weeks after eating dragon eagle flesh. After letting the Pyathen return home, I will climb the Donai spire city when they least expect it; in the wake of what we made them believe were successful peace talks, and I do beleive it is peace talks they intend, and likely because of my own actions. I will then track her directly to her room at the top of the palace by the scent left by the eagle alone. I will incapacitate her beyond an ability to call for help, take her, and then I will descend the spire once more.”
Tema actually sprung to his feet with the haste with which he intended to interrupt. Banon held up a finger, which, to his surprise, Tema quieted down at.
So, Banon continued, “You all know as well as I do the Pyathen spires are built against climbers, built against us. Their spiral staircases are guarded on the inside by, no doubt, hefty defenses. The first hundred feet up, the outsides are covered every inch in poisoned spikes. They have crossbow-armed watchmen standing on outward-facing posts above that who would alert them of anything somehow managing to get past. I have several ideas on how to mitigate these problems, some of which I have considered for years. However, they all depend on this revelation of a negotiation directly with the Donai princess.”
Banon paused, feeling their attention on him like streams of air stoking his fire hotter. He made sure to seem cold and reserved, even so. “If you would all give me leeway to speak with the will of our empire when the Pyathen arrive, I will attempt to trick them, bargaining my way into something I need to overcome the largest problem, ascending the spire. But again, I have other ideas. It is only a matter of how quickly I can have the better ones ready, considering the scent she will have will be on a timer from the moment she takes its flesh into her stomach. Two weeks, maybe three at most, until even Tema’s snout would not be enough to track her. Regardless, all of my potentially successful scenarios require the dragon eagle. It does not matter if I could make it past the spikes and the watch if I have to stumble through every room in the palace to find her. I simply could not pull it off without alerting someone to my presence before I could kill them. If the whole city was alerted, I would not survive the retreat. This is not a request I make lightly. I know the consequences of failure. I also know that those of you who view me as a threat would benefit from this potentially as much as those supporting me. If you believe this to be my end, your vote is still as acceptable to me as those who vote based on fatih of my success. I simply need permission to try.” Banon flickered his glare at Tema before assessing the other elders' faces. Most of them were surprisingly contemplative, not so eager to jump in with responses before even letting him finish. “I hope you will find, in the ear that is closest to your heart, that when you hear my words, you know I believe in them.”
While the elders grumbled among each other, Poh was completely silent.
Until he wasn’t. “This is what you want, Banon? This act of insanity is what you want our empire to hinge on?” Some grumbles of agreement came from around them.
For a moment, Banon was sure that this was the end, that this scheme would finally be the one that pushed things too far, that his father was about to fold. Until Poh crept a smile across his lips. “Then so be it. I ask you only to consult Kimitrius first, and be true to his answer. If you give me that, I will give you leeway to negotiate. If you breach any unspoken boundaries during the negotiations, however, I will make them spoken. You are not emperor… yet.” And he nudged his son with that last word, driving it home.
Before Tema’s gaping mouth could form another protesting word, the emperor abruptly stood, waving downwards until all but the quietest of groans subsided. Tema looked like he was literally chewing the still-born words around in his mouth. Banon wouldn’t be surprised if he chipped a tooth on them.
The emperor took the time to make eye contact with each and every one of the elders before he spoke, a recurring habit his father had that Banon deeply admired and copied when he could remember to. “I will sanction a royal hunting party like is normally reserved for the winter festival. This will give us the best chance of taking a dragon eagle from its perch. However, if no one is capable of succeeding there, I have to say, your plan cannot go forward, Banon. If there is anyone capable of plucking the jungle’s greatest treasure under such circumstances and entirely out of season, it is you. But it is also like you said, this cannot go forward if you do not accomplish that already unbelievable feat, and then on top of it, find success in whatever it is you need from the Pyathen negotiation. So, I am putting to vote only this first part of your plan, and will have you explain to us the further steps only after you finish those monumental prerequisites.”
Banon nodded without missing a beat, despite the fact that the royal hunting party would most definitely not be capable of achieving such a thing at this time of year when the eagles were especially active. The gesture from his father was more about showing his support in front of the others.
In reality, it was all on him.
“Agreed,” Banon said.
Brahman slapped his legs. “Well, if it is this that ends our empire, at least we will have a pretty story to go along with it.”
Banon suppressed a chuckle that only came out as a single huff instead.
“Now,” his father called. “Let us vote.”
***
It came to a three-to-three split, Banon’s own vote not counting, being neither elder nor emperor.
Tema was the last and deciding vote. “I will vote… in favor…”
Banon’s heart surged.
“But! Only if a secondary agreement is come to.”
Banon suppressed his dissent and gestured for Tema to continue instead.
“If he cannot fell a dragon eagle, we will cut off the Pyathen before they can return to their city instead. And we will stand with force, under a shield wall, our heads adorned with the Orux’s we took as Kothai!” he sneered that last word towards Banon. “And it will be me and my son standing at the head of that force. I also say that Banon not be allowed to pursue capturing the royal unless he can down an Orux and pass his rite as well. For the matter of the dragon eagle, as a measure against him cheating around our laws for his own fame and gain, I will request to see the eagle's corpse myself. I will feel its still warm flesh and ensure there are no arrow marks to be found. He will kill it the old way, or he will not kill it at all.”
Banon nodded when his father looked to him for confirmation of his agreement to the new terms. He had to. He was too close to worry about stipulations.
“Is this secondary motion acceptable?” the emperor asked.
The elders voted unanimously in favor this time, regardless of some of the elders' previous descent at the idea of all-out war, which was all the more reason Banon needed to succeed. It wasn’t just his plan that was on the line. Now it was the lives of countless Kothai as well.
Maybe even his entire people as a whole.
Banon stood up, looking over each and every elder before speaking his final words. When he spoke, he carried all the grace he had learned from years of watching his father's uniting way of speaking to people. “Tomorrow, we will face the people who have taken us to the brink of extinction. Tomorrow, we face Pyathen, and we stand against them just the same as all Ooura have withstood to the Pyathen and Enka throughout time. Tomorrow, whether with words of with fire, we fight!”
Banon raised his staff high, noticing the sun's last rays shining on only his chest and above, the sitting elders being excluded now to the shade.
The sun felt good, only for a moment, until a sound caused Banon to whirl with his staff pointed towards the potential threat. Yet it was not a bird of prey, nor an assassin of some kind.
It was one of his father's scouts.
The man came to a tumbling halt on the platform in front of them, clearly overtaken with urgency. Banon nodded to the scout and he nodded back as he rose, despite his disheveled appearance.
“Emperor! Treasured elders! I am so sorry to have interrupted your important tasks.”
“Whatever it is, it is clearly worth interrupting us,” the emperor remarked. “So, what is it?”
“The Pyathens are already arriving, as in now. They doubled their speed of approach once they passed over the unspoken border.”
“They are going to arrive tonight?” Banon asked, trying to stay composed.
“They are arriving now!” he replied.
“Now?! And how are we just hearing about this, then, huh?” Tema made sure no mistakes were made about his level of agitation.
The scout looked apologetic but could only shrug. “The last relay messenger relayed their position right before they began to move at double pace. The last relay saw them not even mobile yet after the night, and now they are well less than an hour from reaching us.”
Banon sighed. There should be tells before something like this could happen, like, for one, the sounds of battle as the Pyathen entered this village without announcing their intentions. It was a grim realization, however, that with so few eyes remaining, even their watch over their heartlands had grown this pathetic.
“Good,” Banon began, taking the reigns of reason back into his hands. “Then we have time to greet them, all of us together, and then we will start the royal hunt only after things are settled to the degree you can handle it on your own, father. It should probably take so long to round up my brothers, anyway.”
Poh nodded at that, but looked conflicted. “I hate to remove some of the night from you–”
“No, an hour of bureaucracy is fine. We can be well on our way to the deep jungle by the time the sun is only halfway back on its way to the horizon. By the time the darkest hours we need for hunting come, we will have the time to use them to our best ability.”
Poh looked unconvinced.
“Besides, even if I do not claim my Orux tonight, I will have until the apex of tomorrow night.”
It was Poh’s turn to sigh. “You will not have time to quarter it by then. It is a close call as it is, and that is if you stick to the beginnings of the deep jungle. I imagine you already have a candidate bull in mind, though?”
Banon nodded. “I do.”
Poh squished the bridge of his nose between his index and thumb exactly as Banon did when he was anxious. “I have no doubt this royal hunt will not fail, my son. I just wish for once that you would set your sights on something this insane and be humbled. If not about something as important as your rite, anyway.”
Banon chuckled. “Some day it will come. Some day.”
“Indeed,” Poh said, snatching Banon’s staff from his hands with striking quickness and proceeding to inspect it more closely. “I don’t know where you found this… but it suits you.”
“You know, you are not the first person today to say that to me.” Banon smiled, taking the moment of pause to lean over the central platform's edge, glancing among the treelines far below on the edge of their village clearing, and thankfully not seeing any Pyathen emerging from them quite yet. “Now we just need to keep the ones among us with mud pillow for brains from getting us all killed.”
His father and Brahman barked laughter while the scout's reluctant chuckle trailed behind.
Tema looked ready to spit his teeth at Banon like viper venom.