Naitachal stood boldly in the center of the floor, wondering what could be so fascinating outside that it would hold the King's attention. He didn't know if he should take offense or feel complimented by the complete lack of attention the King was giving him.
"Please, make yourself comfortable," the King said, turning. "Would you care for some ale, Ambassador?
Refusing would be impolite, so he nodded and said, "It would please me, indeed, Your Majesty."
Warily, he took one of three heavy wood chairs, set about in a semi-circle. The throne faced him squarely, a tall, velvet-upholstered artifact raised on a platform that would put the King's toes about eye level when sitting.
The King turned and regarded Naitachal with some visible apprehension, then forced a smile. A servant appeared with two large steins of ale, offered one to the Dark Elf, than served the other to the King. As Naitachal took his, he suppressed a grimace. He did not care for ale, and this was a heavy, bitter brew.
Still, the King's wish was an order. Naitachal relaxed and tried the ale, wondering briefly if it had been poi- soned. Since he had a choice of either of the steins, he decided this was unlikely.
The King drank from his stein and seated himself in one of the other smaller chairs next to Naitachal, for- going the use of the ostentatious throne. Though he wore yesterday's purple robe, his clothing seemed rumpled; shadows lurked under his eyes and stubble stood out on his tired face. Stress lines showed on his forehead. Either the King is ill, or he is worried sick over something. Naitachal drank his warm ale and tried to look composed.
"I come directly to the point," the King said. "It has come to my attention lately that there is considerable renegade magic going on among the peasants. There are suggestions that some of these magicians are con- nected somehow with your land."
Oh? This was a new accusation, and it baffled Nai- tachal. Now what? he wondered, thinking this might be smoke, sent out to conceal the real issue, whatever it might be.
"If there are magicians practicing magic covert Suinomen," Naitachal began with an even voice, "I am hardly in a position to know of it. Though my kind does have a long history of the practice of mage-c I have carefully avoided this practice since arriving here. And you, sir, have never sent any communica- tion to my King making any suggestion that such renegades are troubling your land. What, exactly, is the link to Althea you speak of?"
"Nothing... specific," the King admitted. "And I am not accusing you of anything. It does raise some issues, which I would like to discuss with the understanding that we intend no offense. It is most opportune that you are here to negotiate. It saves us the trouble, and time, of sending an ambassador to your land."
At the mention of the word negotiate, Naitachal's ears stood straight up. Are we finally going to discuss these "war threats"?
The King stirred restlessly. "This mage-craft was once a threat to our kingdom, many years ago. That is when we created the Swords of the Magicians, and began policing the land of unauthorized magic.
Since then, things have been quiet here. Until lately. There hasn't been much in the way of travel between our two kingdoms, but in the last half year what little there has been has increased twofold.
Perhaps it is no coincidence that the unauthorized magic using has increased as well."
Naitachal saw the King's point, and he didn't like it at all. He's trying to blame Althea for the failure of his policies, for his inability to stifle magic in what is obvi- ously a land rich with those who have the abilities, if not the training, to practice the art.
But the King's next words took him entirely by sur- prise. "I think it would be a great benefit to both our lands if you recognized the superior policing ability of the Association and permit them into your kingdom. It is clear to me that your land is the source of this scourge, and if you let our Association in, for the express purpose of dealing with mages, we can solve this problem once and for all."
The King gazed at him hopefully, obviously finding nothing wrong with the request.
Naitachal stared at him for a long, long time. The request appalled him so much that he had to reassess everything he'd learned about Suinomen and its king.
Did I hear that correctly? Fearful of magic. Suspicious of his son. Influenced by unknown political forces. Per- haps completely misled about Althea. He thinks we want to clean up magic in our own kingdom? Badly enough to let a foreign force in, from a country whose intentions are in serious question? He really believes this is a reasonable request!
"I see," Naitachal said, forcing a most urbane man- ner in spite of his desire to demonstrate a little high level Bardic Magic and wipe the King's mind clean of even the shadow of such an idea. "Of course, I am in no position to grant such a request It might be a very good idea, after all, and I will certainly infor King of your request."
King Archenomen's brow furrowed, as if he had expected immediate agreement. "But surely, you can understand the need..."
Naitachal made a conciliatory gesture. "Of course I see how important this is to you. But you must under- stand, this would mean ridding Althea of most non-humans, elves, fairies, Arachnia as well as the human mages. I'm not even certain this is possible; the non-humans occupy much territory within our borders, and have established themselves as indis- pensable to the commerce and prosperity of our land.
You see, non-humans simply will not allow humans to regulate magic. Magic is the core of their existence. To take it away would cause serious political problems for our King."
"I would have expected the King of Althea to send a stronger soul to discuss matters of state," Archenomen said, looking disappointed.