Sweep in Peace
Page 45
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
I rose and bowed. “Thank you for sharing your tea with me, Khanum. May your days be long and your sun weak.”
The Khanum inclined her head.
Dagorkun rose and we followed him through the otrokar quarters. Something didn’t sit right with me about what the Khanum said about the Horde’s reasons for fighting. She delivered the lines perfectly, with just enough growl in her voice, but I had a feeling her heart wasn’t in it.
Dagorkun stopped by the door.
I stepped through it. “Thank you for your hospitality.”
“You’re welcome.”
The door sealed shut.
“Well, that was enlightening,” Caldenia murmured as we descended the stairs. “She’s desperate for the peace talks to succeed.”
“You think so?”
Caldenia shook her head. “My dear, you must learn to observe. She is the general of this massive horde, but under all of it she is a mother who loves her children more than life itself. You and I both know who will lead the Horde’s offensive on the Nexus – it will be the son who now sits next to her. Remember that National Geographic documentary we watched last week, where the lions were trying to survive the drought? That woman is that old lioness trying to protect her last cub. She is fighting desperately to keep him alive, and she is losing hope.”
She was right. It made perfect sense and it was so awful. The sadness of it took your breath away.
“This is marvelous,” Caldenia said. “Press that lever and you can wrench her heart right out. You couldn’t ask for a better weakness. You should take me to all of your talks. They are so entertaining.”
Chapter 10
George’s hair, normally perfectly brushed and gathered into a horse tail at the nape of his neck, was haphazardly tied with loose strands spilling around his handsome face. A trace of stubble graced his jaw. His cream shirt was slightly damp. As he met me at the door of his room, he looked slightly disheveled and mournful, like a man who had surrendered to his fate. Surprisingly, losing his elegant perfection catapulted him from merely shockingly handsome into outrageously seductive territory. I briefly wondered if I could find some excuse to send Sophie up here. I had a feeling she would really appreciate it.
I told him about the Khanum’s request for autumn celebrations, George did everything except listen to me. He tugged on his sleeve. He brushed his hair back. He scratched his stubbled jaw. He appeared generally to be distracted, but years of being an innkeeper’s kid taught me to watch the guests. George paid careful attention to everything I said.
“I attempted to shave and the faucet sprayed me with water,” George reported when I finished. “Icy water. It’s been three, no four days since I was able to take a hot shower. No, maybe three…”
Very well. “If you are asking whether you’ve been punished enough for cutting down my thirty year old apple trees, I am sure we can work something out.” I snapped my fingers for emphasis. Every faucet and shower head in the bathroom came on, spilling out strong stream of steaming water. I let it run for three seconds and turned it off. “Also, if you could stop pretending to not listen to me, I would really appreciate it.”
George abandoned his martyred expression. “There is a certain protocol when it comes to these things. A certain amount of back and forth that most people engage in. You simply bypass all of the preliminaries. I can’t decide if your directness is refreshing or frustrating.”
“The more verbal dancing I do around the subject, the more opportunity I give you to argue,” I explained. “Some guests tend to be very…”
“Manipulative?”
“Difficult,” I said.
“But having a longer conversation also gives you the opportunity to learn more about the person,” he said. “What buttons to push. What levers to pull.”
“I’m not here to press buttons. I’m neutral by definition. My purpose is to provide shelter and comfort to my guests and see to their needs. I’m here to solve their problems while they are staying under my roof, and right now I would like to talk about the Khanum’s request.”
“Very well. Let’s abandon the verbal gymnastics. It will go faster.” George invited me to a sofa with a sweep of his hand. I sat, and he took a plush chair across from me. “Did the Khanum explain that the Horde signed a waiver prior to negotiations indicating that they were willing to suspend celebrations and religious holidays for the duration of the summit?”
“No.”
“In fact, every participant of the summit has signed this waver.” George’s blue eyes were hard and crystal clear, their gaze focused. There was something sharp and almost predatory in the way he held himself now. He reminded me of a falcon watching a bird in a distant sky just before he launched himself into the air currents for the lethal dive, his talons poised for the kill. So that’s what he really looked like. “The balance of power within the summit is very tenuous and neither of the three participants is willing to relinquish any of it. If they see any opening at all, they will press their advantage. So if we now honor the Khanum’s request, concessions will have to be made to appease the Holy Anocracy and the Merchants.”
“In other words, they’ll want a bribe,” I said. Of course. “And whatever they ask for will result in further complications.”
“Furthermore, once we bring the celebration to the table, we can’t back down. If the vampires, for example, make some outrageous demand in return for agreeing to the celebration, and we are unable to reach an agreement, in the otrokari’s eyes, the Holy Anocracy will become the people who prevented the observation of a beloved ritual. One would think that given their history of mutual hatred, this one more small occurrence wouldn’t matter. In reality, that hypothetical transgression will overshadow whatever bad blood they already have.”
“They killed my brother, stole our planet, but most of all, they wouldn’t let us have the autumn festival?”
“Yes. That’s a peculiar quirk of the psychology of small isolated gatherings, which is why I chose this format and your inn in the first place. When you take sworn enemies and put them together into an isolated environment, provided the group is small enough, they experience the same events and develop similar attitudes, which gives them some common ground where previously there was none. It creates a ‘we’re all in this together’ mentality, a camaraderie. The vampires and the otrokari recognize their own emotions in their enemy: boredom while the proceedings take place, relief when they’re over the day, joy at simple pleasure of a well-cooked meal. This commonality of circumstances and reactions fosters empathy, which is a precursor of any consensus. Right now this empathy is very fragile and the conflict over the autumn celebrations has the potential to rip it apart beyond all repair.”
The Khanum inclined her head.
Dagorkun rose and we followed him through the otrokar quarters. Something didn’t sit right with me about what the Khanum said about the Horde’s reasons for fighting. She delivered the lines perfectly, with just enough growl in her voice, but I had a feeling her heart wasn’t in it.
Dagorkun stopped by the door.
I stepped through it. “Thank you for your hospitality.”
“You’re welcome.”
The door sealed shut.
“Well, that was enlightening,” Caldenia murmured as we descended the stairs. “She’s desperate for the peace talks to succeed.”
“You think so?”
Caldenia shook her head. “My dear, you must learn to observe. She is the general of this massive horde, but under all of it she is a mother who loves her children more than life itself. You and I both know who will lead the Horde’s offensive on the Nexus – it will be the son who now sits next to her. Remember that National Geographic documentary we watched last week, where the lions were trying to survive the drought? That woman is that old lioness trying to protect her last cub. She is fighting desperately to keep him alive, and she is losing hope.”
She was right. It made perfect sense and it was so awful. The sadness of it took your breath away.
“This is marvelous,” Caldenia said. “Press that lever and you can wrench her heart right out. You couldn’t ask for a better weakness. You should take me to all of your talks. They are so entertaining.”
Chapter 10
George’s hair, normally perfectly brushed and gathered into a horse tail at the nape of his neck, was haphazardly tied with loose strands spilling around his handsome face. A trace of stubble graced his jaw. His cream shirt was slightly damp. As he met me at the door of his room, he looked slightly disheveled and mournful, like a man who had surrendered to his fate. Surprisingly, losing his elegant perfection catapulted him from merely shockingly handsome into outrageously seductive territory. I briefly wondered if I could find some excuse to send Sophie up here. I had a feeling she would really appreciate it.
I told him about the Khanum’s request for autumn celebrations, George did everything except listen to me. He tugged on his sleeve. He brushed his hair back. He scratched his stubbled jaw. He appeared generally to be distracted, but years of being an innkeeper’s kid taught me to watch the guests. George paid careful attention to everything I said.
“I attempted to shave and the faucet sprayed me with water,” George reported when I finished. “Icy water. It’s been three, no four days since I was able to take a hot shower. No, maybe three…”
Very well. “If you are asking whether you’ve been punished enough for cutting down my thirty year old apple trees, I am sure we can work something out.” I snapped my fingers for emphasis. Every faucet and shower head in the bathroom came on, spilling out strong stream of steaming water. I let it run for three seconds and turned it off. “Also, if you could stop pretending to not listen to me, I would really appreciate it.”
George abandoned his martyred expression. “There is a certain protocol when it comes to these things. A certain amount of back and forth that most people engage in. You simply bypass all of the preliminaries. I can’t decide if your directness is refreshing or frustrating.”
“The more verbal dancing I do around the subject, the more opportunity I give you to argue,” I explained. “Some guests tend to be very…”
“Manipulative?”
“Difficult,” I said.
“But having a longer conversation also gives you the opportunity to learn more about the person,” he said. “What buttons to push. What levers to pull.”
“I’m not here to press buttons. I’m neutral by definition. My purpose is to provide shelter and comfort to my guests and see to their needs. I’m here to solve their problems while they are staying under my roof, and right now I would like to talk about the Khanum’s request.”
“Very well. Let’s abandon the verbal gymnastics. It will go faster.” George invited me to a sofa with a sweep of his hand. I sat, and he took a plush chair across from me. “Did the Khanum explain that the Horde signed a waiver prior to negotiations indicating that they were willing to suspend celebrations and religious holidays for the duration of the summit?”
“No.”
“In fact, every participant of the summit has signed this waver.” George’s blue eyes were hard and crystal clear, their gaze focused. There was something sharp and almost predatory in the way he held himself now. He reminded me of a falcon watching a bird in a distant sky just before he launched himself into the air currents for the lethal dive, his talons poised for the kill. So that’s what he really looked like. “The balance of power within the summit is very tenuous and neither of the three participants is willing to relinquish any of it. If they see any opening at all, they will press their advantage. So if we now honor the Khanum’s request, concessions will have to be made to appease the Holy Anocracy and the Merchants.”
“In other words, they’ll want a bribe,” I said. Of course. “And whatever they ask for will result in further complications.”
“Furthermore, once we bring the celebration to the table, we can’t back down. If the vampires, for example, make some outrageous demand in return for agreeing to the celebration, and we are unable to reach an agreement, in the otrokari’s eyes, the Holy Anocracy will become the people who prevented the observation of a beloved ritual. One would think that given their history of mutual hatred, this one more small occurrence wouldn’t matter. In reality, that hypothetical transgression will overshadow whatever bad blood they already have.”
“They killed my brother, stole our planet, but most of all, they wouldn’t let us have the autumn festival?”
“Yes. That’s a peculiar quirk of the psychology of small isolated gatherings, which is why I chose this format and your inn in the first place. When you take sworn enemies and put them together into an isolated environment, provided the group is small enough, they experience the same events and develop similar attitudes, which gives them some common ground where previously there was none. It creates a ‘we’re all in this together’ mentality, a camaraderie. The vampires and the otrokari recognize their own emotions in their enemy: boredom while the proceedings take place, relief when they’re over the day, joy at simple pleasure of a well-cooked meal. This commonality of circumstances and reactions fosters empathy, which is a precursor of any consensus. Right now this empathy is very fragile and the conflict over the autumn celebrations has the potential to rip it apart beyond all repair.”
