Of Love and Valor

24: Her Father's Daughter

"Ah, there she is. Thank you, Jorabij," Santhrobar's voice says as I enter the tent of the zaikaritim, blinking rapidly as my eyes struggle to transition from the glare of the hot afternoon sun outside to the smoky shadows of the tent interior. Jorabij bows and leaves without another word to me or anyone else; I guess he feels he's done all he can to assure me that the zaikaritim are not planning to execute me or have me fight for my life to amuse them.

"Alderon, you cannot be zerious," one of the zaikaritim, I think the Umathyar uncle, protests. "Ve have been discussing for days. You say maybe somevun in ze sqvadron can help, and you bring us zis voman, ze vun who humiliated our fighting force?"

"You want someone who might be able to get you an audience with the Yrivvior," Alderon replies tiredly. "Admittedly Azerai has never met the Yrivvior, but none of us have. As I have said before, our squadron is fairly new to Orenxiao and we do not have the clout to appeal to the Yrivvior directly. However, Azerai might be able to work with the Kazmiohni in Orenxiao to arrange something for you."

"Alderon, I do not—" I protest.

"Silence, vench!" another zaikaritim shouts me down. "You speak only if ve ask you qvestion."

"Zis voman have more chance zan you of getting audience trough ze Kazmiohni?" the uncle asks, almost a statement and clearly full of doubt.

"She is the reason we we transferred to Orenxiao from Andelxiao. She is the strategist behind our massive defeat of the Erivim at Andelxiao," Alderon explains. My eyes have finally adjusted, and he seems completely worn down and frustrated, as does Santhrobar, who sits beside him at a long, low table in the middle of the tent. The zaikaritim, who also recline on cushions around the table, look similarly weary, yet completely outraged by my presence in their tent.

"The Kazmiohni favor her," Santhrobar adds, "as they should. To our knowledge, she is the only one in Yrivvenna who has survived two major Erivim attacks."

"Zo you suggest ve make ourselves beholden to zis voman to get ze help ve need," one of the zaikaritim suggests distastefully. "You are sure it is zis voman you speak of? She looks not like ze person you describe."

"You yourself mentioned that she humiliated your fighting force. Do you need another demonstration of her skill?"

"If I had another offer that I thought you'd find more palatable, trust me, I would be making it," Alderon snaps. "I have no desire to drag this out any further. Our whole squadron wearies of Kedar-Jashun and longs to return home. The question we must answer, honorable zaikaritim, is whether we bring any of you with us to attempt to negotiate on your behalf in Orenxiao, or if you will forfeit your goals because the one most likely to be able to help you happens to be a woman." He practically spits the word honorable. I wholeheartedly echo his contempt and impatience with their patriarchal garbage. It is all I can do to hold my tongue through this. I wonder if they will deign to ask me any questions themselves, or what the point of summoning me was if this was how they intended to treat me. I think back to family dinners in Kennakara, when Father would tell Mother about his meetings with the other village Elders. Often the Elders did not see eye to eye, but they always came to some sort of compromise, and Mother always seemed to think that was completely Father's doing. Father, if you're watching, if they allow me to speak, please guide me. Help me handle it as you would.

A long silence follows Alderon's ultimatum, during which the zaikaritim seem to be communicating through looks and gestures and inaudible whispers. Alderon mouths an apology to me from across the tent. I nod slightly. It has become more than clear, in the brief time I've been present for these negotiations, that he was really desperate to even attempt this, and I hold nothing against him for it.