The Jongurian Mission Read online

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  Three of the Jongurian men led them up the wooden staircase to the buildings that Bryn had seen. If this was Weiling, then it wasn’t much, he thought. There were perhaps a dozen buildings, all laid out on flat boards over the uneven rocky boulders. The two closest to the staircase were two-storeys tall, while the others were only a single-storey high. The ground was worn and dusty on what passed for a road between the buildings. There were very few people around, only an old woman washing some clothes in a large wooden barrel and a middle-aged man sitting on a bench outside one of the buildings further down the road. The three Jongurians walked up the wooden porch steps that led into the first tall building after the staircase and opened the door, gesturing for them to enter.

  Inside, the building was nearly as bare as the outside. They walked into a small, empty room off of the porch, and they turned to look back at the Jongurians, who gestured for them to move into the larger room to the right. It contained a small table in the middle of the room with four chairs set into it, while along the side wall there were another five chairs, all covered with dust. The room was dominated by a large wooden desk, made from the same wood that everything else in Weiling was made of. A large man sat in it, a long pipe clamped tightly between his teeth. He had dark, oily black hair, a thin black mustache and several long hairs on his chin which dangled down, although there were not nearly enough to qualify it as a beard. He had the same small facial features as the other Jongurians, but whereas they were small of body, this man was large. He had massive arms and a belly which stretched out far in front of him. His shirt was a dark blue, though faded by the sun, and he wore an equally faded grey vest over it. Both were covered in ash from the pipe he smoked.

  “Welcome,” he said in Adjurian when they’d all squeezed into the room. “Please, have a seat.”

  Halam, Edgyn, Pader, and Willem seated themselves at the table while Bryn, Rodden, Millen, and Iago took the chairs against the wall, wiping the dust off with their hands before sitting down.

  “My name is Yuan Jibao and I represent the emperor here in Weiling. Now tell me, what to what do I owe the pleasure of an unexpected visit from an Adjurian ship,” the man said in a deep voice, the pipe bobbing up and down between his lips as he spoke.

  The men seated at the table looked to one another. After a moment, as if some silent agreement had been made as to who would represent them, Halam stood up.

  “Sir, my name is Halam Fiske, and I’m a trade representative from the province of Tillatia. Each of us,” he said, turning and putting his arms out to indicate everyone sitting behind him, “holds a position dealing with trade from a different province of Adjuria. We’ve been tasked by the king and royal council to let it be known to you that we wish to open up trade between our two great countries once again.”

  Several moments passed by in silence as Yuan seemed to weigh Halam’s words. Finally he spoke.

  “It’s been more than twenty years and one long war since our two nations have traded, why do you come to us now?”

  Halam put his fist on the table and looked down for a moment before addressing the man. “For many years after the East-West war Adjuria had several internal problems which eventually led to a Civil–”

  “Yes, we know about your war,” Yuan interrupted impatiently. “What I want to know about is trade.

  Halam seemed to tense up a moment at the sudden interruption. “It’s been only recently that matters have come to a sufficient point where we feel we’re able to trade once again.”

  “Nonsense,” Yuan replied. “You’ve been needing to trade for some time now, if our reports are any indication. Much of your country’s population is living very poorly and has been for some time. You think that by reopening trade with us that this problem will be solved.”

  Halam could tell this man was better informed about Adjuria than they were of Jonguria, and there was no point in trying to argue with him about his country’s situation. “That’s right, sir.”

  “Of course that’s right, it wasn’t a question.” Seemingly satisfied that he’d gotten the upper hand in the discussion so far, Yuan leaned back in his chair, which creaked noisily under the strain. “Did you ever think why it was that we’ve never come to you, like you come to me today, begging for trade to be resumed.”

  Halam thought for a few moments before speaking, not wanting to anger the man anymore than he already had. “We thought that perhaps you no longer had a pressing need for our goods after such a long absence.”

  “A pressing need?” Yuan laughed repeating the words. “No, we have no pressing need. I will tell you sir, we’ve come to realize that we never had a need for your goods and are doing quite fine without them.”

  Halam looked at the other men sitting at the table. Pader rose to speak.

  “Surely sir this cannot be the majority opinion of the imperial government.”

  “I am the imperial government as far as you’re concerned,” Yuan said loudly, quickly jerking upright in his chair once again. “Who are you to presume to know my government’s opinions?”

  “My name is Pader Brun from Culdovia, sir, and I don’t presume to know anything,” Pader said, standing up from the table to speak.

  “Yes, that is good,” Yuan said, settling back in his chair somewhat. “None of you need presume anything about Jonguria. How could you possibly know anything about what goes on in this country? No Adjurian has stepped foot on Jongurian soil since the last of you packed up your camps and left the Baishur River and Bindao.”

  “Sir,” Edgyn said as he got up from his chair and stood in front of the table. “My name is Edgyn Thron from Portinia. Before the war I made countless voyages between our two countries, the holds of my ship overflowing with goods, goods which were highly appreciated at the time.” He looked down for a moment before meeting Yuan’s eyes. “With all due respect, sir, I cannot believe that there is no longer any demand for what Adjuria produces.”

  “Have you Adjurians no sense? Do your ears not work properly?” Yuan bellowed, rising from his chair. “I’ve just told you that we don’t want your goods. How can I make myself any more clear?”

  Before Edgyn could respond, Willem stood up. “You’ve made it very clear that you have no desire for us to be here or for our goods to be sent. We are sorry to have troubled you this morning and will be on our way. Thank you for your time.”

  “That is the most sensible thing I’ve heard from your mouths today,” Yuan replied, sitting down again.

  Pader and Edgyn began to voice their disagreement with Willem’s sudden declaration, but he silenced them with a sharp look.

  “Let us head back to the ship gentlemen, our role here is done.”

  He raised his arms up in a gesture for them to head out the door and back toward the wooden staircase leading to the pier. Bryn took one final look over his shoulder at Yuan. He seemed to be clenching his teeth around his pipe stem harder than ever, his face growing red.

  Once back in the empty front room Edgyn and Pader let their discontent be known. “How could you just stop the negotiations like that?” Pader angrily asked Willem.

  “You call that negotiations?” Willem replied just as angrily, closing the door to Yuan’s office. “That was more like a chastisement. It was clear that he wanted nothing to do with us.”

  “But we should have kept pressing. I cannot believe that this man speaks for Jonguria when he says that he has no desire whatsoever for a renewal of trade,” Edgyn angrily said. “That makes no sense at all!”

  “He said he was the imperial representative, and you said that was how it worked here, Edgyn,” Willem replied. “The imperial representative speaks with the voice of the emperor, right? Well, from the way his face was reddening it was obvious that our polite attempts at negotiation, as you call it, were doing nothing more than angering him.”

  “So you would have us head back to the ship and sail for home just like that?” Pader asked. “I can’t agree to th
at. I didn’t sit on a ship for the past week to just turn around at the first small obstacle in our way.” He paused, taking in a few deep breaths. “We need to give them more time to think on it. I’m sure it was a shock to see us; he said himself that we were unexpected!”

  Bryn listened to the men argue back and forth between themselves. He was surprised at the reaction they’d received, and wondered what they would do next. He didn’t like arguing however, having heard enough of it over the two days at the conference. He decided there’d be no harm in him waiting outside on the porch for the mens’ tempers to cool.

  The three Jongurians were still standing on the porch when he stepped out the door, but his gaze immediately went to the two men in the street heading toward the docks. Bryn was startled, because he immediately recognized one of them as an Adjurian. The man was old, with dark hair going gray and a large goatee, but it was the eyes that really caught Bryn’s attention. They were the same eyes he had seen staring back at him from the book in Halam’s house in Plowdon. Bryn was looking right at Grandon Fray, the False King. His eyes went wide at the sudden realization and he found that he couldn’t move.

  Both men quickly stopped right in the middle of the street and stared up at him. After a moment the Jongurian accompanying the man moved his hand to the sword at his waist, causing a chill to run up Bryn’s spine. He turned and went right back through the door into the small empty room where the men were still arguing.

  “If he wanted to see us again, he would have said so,” Halam was saying. “It was obvious from his manner that he had no wish to speak with us at this time or at a future date.”

  “Uncle Halam, Uncle Halam!” Bryn nearly shouted as he came back into the small room. “I just saw–”

  “Not now Bryn,” Halam said as he brushed Bryn off, obviously upset with how things had gone in the meeting.

  “But–,” Bryn began, tugging on his uncle’s sleeve.

  Halam looked down, his anger now directed at his nephew. “Bryn, what did I just say? Can’t you see that we’re busy discussing something important here?”

  Bryn backed-off at the cold look and kept his mouth shut. While he had no doubt that what he just saw on the street was important, his uncle, and the rest of the men by the look of things, were not in the mood to hear of it.

  “Is there no one else that we can talk with?” Rodden asked after a moment, looking over at Edgyn.

  “Each time that I’ve had to negotiate the contracts and go over the trading manifests in the past, it was in these buildings,” Edgyn replied, waving at the wooden structures outside. “I’ve never met this Yuan Jibao, but he’s the first imperial representative I’ve talked with who has acted this way. Most bend-over backward to make you feel at home and speak quite humbly. They would be embarrassed to talk with anyone, especially a foreigner, in such a way.”

  “It’d be a shame to get back on the ship and sail right back to Adjuria when we’ve been here no more than an hour,” Millen said. “Perhaps it would be best if we returned to the ship and let things cool. Maybe our sudden appearance brought up bad memories for the man.”

  “Millen’s right,” Rodden replied. “We cannot just turn for home. Let’s wait on the ship. I’d be surprised if they didn’t send to us for another audience, perhaps with another representative.”

  “Do the rest of you agree?” Edgyn asked.

  They nodded their heads and Edgyn shrugged.

  “Well, then we’ll wait on the ship until we hear otherwise.”