Of Love and Valor

45: Negotiations

"Azerai. I'm sure you know, Zelphinon and I have discussed such a thing before, and it simply isn't practical," Kazmiohn Ruokharismet counters. I dare not venture a glance at Zelphinon, but I can feel his eyes burning holes into me. "He is too good a warrior to waste his talents on the healing arts."

"With all due respect, Kazmiohn, I know you want your best warriors on watches and patrols as often as possible, but if I can be spared from time to time to strategize, then it follows that he can be spared sometimes to pursue—"

"It is not the same! Firstly, surely you will admit he is the better warrior of the two of you."

"I have never contested that point, Kazmiohn. I have yet to beat him in one-on-one combat."

"And furthermore, it is one thing for you to leave your regular duties to create strategies that will benefit the entire city and improve our defenses as a whole. It is quite another thing for him to study healing, which will not benefit nearly as many—"

"I do not know that we can be quite certain of that, Kazmiohn. I was wounded in the battle at Andelxiao, and Zelphinon tended my wounds. The healers there attested that they could not have done better for me. And you know full well that he saved my life when I took ill here, and he has accomplished all this with just what he has been able to study on his own in stolen moments of leisure. How many more lives could be saved in battles if some warriors knew more than just basic field medicine? And how much better could he become with proper training?"

"He saved your life?" the Yrivvior questions, interest piqued.

"She had a very bad reaction to a plant, Your Imperial Majesty," Zelphinon explains, trying to downplay the incident for some reason. I guess it's not in line with our goals for Yrivvenna to say that he thinks the zaikarit poisoned me in an attempt at murder. "I was simply the first with more than basic training in field medicine to arrive, when her roommate brought word of her illness to our Kazmiohni."

"But she could have died from it, and you prevented it."

"With the help of one of her roommates, I suppose that is true."

"So without his healing arts, we have no strategist." The Yrivvior's cold eyes have fallen all the more intensely on Kazmiohn Ruokharismet.

"It is not traditional for a man to be a healer, Venerable Yrivvior."

"Nor is it traditional for a woman to be a military strategist, Kazmiohn, yet here we are," the Orenfior points out, no doubt feeling somewhat slighted by his exclusion from this discussion.

"His Excellency raises a strong argument, Kazmiohn," the Yrivvior points out. "I care more to have fresh insights in the strategy meetings, particularly from someone who has fought our enemy firsthand, than I care to uphold any traditions. But they are both yours to command, first and foremost."

Kazmiohn Ruokharismet groans, then laughs wanly. "You say that, Your Imperial Majesty, but who am I to refuse my sovereign? If her condition is one you believe ought to be met, then I will find a way to make it happen."

"Thank you, Kazmiohn." Zelphinon says, and I echo this statement faintly. I can hardly believe they bothered to consider my condition, let alone that they may actually be granting it.

"Wait just a moment," the Orenfior demands. "What does this mean for my rotational guard?"

"Simply that you will be seeing Azerai and Zelphinon less frequently, I would think," Kazmiohn Ruokharismet replies smoothly, "though you have a rather annoying habit of requesting them for specific occasions."

"There is no reason we cannot share them, Your Excellency," the Yrivvior points out dryly, "and anyway, there will be plenty of occasions like today where I will summon you to my daily appointments. It matters not to me whether she serves as strategist and one of the Fiorzhanim at the same time, so long as I have access to whatever insights she might have for improving our chances against the Erivim."

"Of course, Venerable Yrivvior. Please forgive me for not having thought of that," the Orenfior answers with equal dryness. The friendship between these two men would be rather amusing, under less stressful circumstances.

"It is already forgotten. Now, I believe they will all be foaming at the mouth with impatience in the Hall of Public Audience, waiting for me to return to hear whatever further appeals have fallen to my lot today," the Yrivvior says, seeming less than excited about the idea. "Amzakhar, please draft up some believable statement for the salori about how, due to concerns about the Erivim, I will start having Viorzhanim during all of my meetings, regardless of confidentiality."

"Yes, Father," the Yrivvilon answers, looking less than pleased. His curious gaze has been on me more often than not for this entire meeting and I would very much like to have done with that.

"Your Excellency, I have no further need of your services this day," the Yrivvior continues, having been scanning a scroll while waiting for his son's response. "You may take your guard and return to your usual business. Kazmiohn Ruokharismet, please pick up a copy of my schedule from my scribe in the Hall of Public Audience before you go, so that you can arrange Azerai's and Zelphinon's schedules accordingly."

"We are yours to command, Your Imperial Majesty," the Orenfior and Kazmiohn Ruokharismet answer severally. With that, we all leave the Hall of Private Audience; the Yrivvilon departs by a different door than the rest of us.

"Allow me to walk with you a ways, that I might speak with my charges," Kazmiohn Ruokharismet petitions the Orenfior as we make our way back to the Hall of Public Audience a few steps behind the Yrivvior.

"Of course. I would not refuse you so reasonable a request," the Orenfior agrees. He seems quite pleased with himself, for some reason. Thus we wait a few moments while Kazmiohn Ruokharismet obtains the Yrivvior's schedule from a scribe, and then we are discreetly shown out a side door by another of the Yrivvior's attendants. Not until we are back outside the Yrivvior's palace and walking in the general direction of the Orenfior's mansion does anyone speak.

"You are full of surprises, Azerai," Kazmiohn Ruokharismet addresses me, and his tone is not entirely kind. "I did not expect you to use your skill for strategizing to extract favors for friends."

"Kazmiohn, as I said earlier, I owe Zelphinon my life. To use what opportunities come my way to try to give him something in return, to restore the balance of honor, is only natural," I answer coolly.

"Do not fly too close to the sun," he warns me obscurely before turning his attention to Zelphinon. "If we are going to do this, we will do it right. I will make arrangements for you to work as an apprentice to the premiere healer in Orenxiao as soon as possible. Likely I will take you out of a patrol in a day or two to meet her and make sure the partnership will work in your favor."

"Your are most gracious, Kazmiohn," Zelphinon answers with a half-bow. I want to talk with him, just us two, but I don't know how long I might have to wait for that.

"I am not the one you should be thanking. But you know that already. I will have schedules for the two of you as soon as I can."

"I am yours to command, Kazmiohn," Zelphinon and I answer together.

"Remarkable and frightening synchronicity," the Orenfior remarks, shaking his head.

"And Your Excellency," Kazmiohn Ruokharismet continues, a hint of exasperation creeping into his voice, "please keep your requests for specific members of this squadron to a minimum. I take no pleasure in reconfiguring my Orenzhanim scheduling again, and I strongly suspect that you wanted these two today for exactly such a happening as this."

"I assure you, Kazmiohn, I was just as surprised as you were by today's events." His tone is sincere, but the slightest of smirks plays about his lips and I suspect that our Kazmiohn might have the right of things. "But I think this turn of events most fortunate, for the good of Yrivvenna as a whole, don't you?"