Wine and Dine (Close-ed)

[Iain]

“Pardon me, can you direct me to the Flask and Flagon?”

The drow looked at Iain with a puzzled expression. The noble spoke again, this time in broken drow, “Flask and Flagon, inn, sign of blue and gold…” He paused, not sure that with his poor language skills his question had even made sense. The drow clearly took a moment to decipher what the knight was trying to say, then his face lit up. “Two blocks…ay’ral shakir memnahk…the right.” He gestured in a direction with his free hand.

“Thank you, my friend.” Iain had only understood a small portion of what the drow had given him for directions, but it was the start that he needed to find this inn, the Flask and Flagon. Giving the drow a nod of his head, the Salvarian turned and walked briskly in the direction that the helpful elf had indicated. I really do need to work on my Drow, the noble said to himself. Not having fluency in this nation is like riding into the wind, it can be done but makes things considerably more complicated.

After a minute or two Iain caught sight of his destination: The Flask and Flagon. The inn’s name was engraved in gold lettering on a wooden sign, and beneath the words were two blue drinking vessels, the flask and flagon that the inn drew its name from. The knight pushed through the saloon-style swinging doors of the inn and entered. The tavern section of the building was hardly full, with only a few patrons, probably the regulars, sitting on stools at the oaken bar.

Dodging several puddles of unidentifiable liquid, Iain made his way to the bar. The man behind it, wearing a blue vest with the inn’s sign on the breast pocket and wielding a polishing cloth, eyed the newcomer with the measured suspicion of one who has seen his fair share of robberies and tavern brawls. “Waddya want,” his eyes seemed to say. “New around here?” is what his mouth said.

With an air of familiarity, Iain replied, grateful that the drow spoke common. “Aye, just back from Kachuk on royal business. Actually, I’m still on royal business. Tell me, is there a man by the name of Lord Cameron Talbot staying in your inn, or is the King’s intelligence flawed?” The barkeep pulled a ledger from behind the counter, and scanned it briefly with his gaze. “Yeah, checked in yesterday. Must be Mr. Moneybags, took three of my largest rooms and has a running tab for himself and any of his guests.”

“In that case, I’ll have a pint of mulled wine, please.” Iain gave the tender a knowing smile. The drow just shook his head and poured the beverage for the knight, then moved on to other business. Sipping his wine, Iain gathered his wits about him and began to scheme. He was here to wage a war of words, not of weapons, but his inner strategist still demanded precise planning before he started his offensive. Not to mention the fact that his assistant, assigned by the commissioners, had not yet arrived. Iain was early, as was his style, and he preferred it that way. It gave him time to write a mental script for his accomplice, so he or she didn’t open their mouth and ruin his chances for success.

Not this time, Iain thought, Not when my future depends on it…

[Anila]

Perhaps being in the Grander's Order has some advantages, reflected Anila. All I can say is that this trip had best be worth the effort.

She had received a note just that morning that she was to work opposite a noble from Salvar, one Iain Detrius of Harondale. He was working under the King of Alerar, trying to negotiate a trade deal between Salvar and Alerar. The Salvarian noble that had control over that was one Lord Cameron Talbot. It was all in the note.

Grander Raelyse Salidan had written it himself...apparently he was tied up at the moment, or maybe he just wanted to test a new member -- and being a Noblewoman herself, she was the closest, best choice for this particular assignment.

And so here she was, walking through the streets of some town in Alerar, looking for the Flask and Flagon inn. She was fortunate in that she had a guide -- a Drow subject of the Grander's Order who had business here himself. She didn't know his name, and they hadn't spoken. He'd merely turned up to guide her and would leave when she was where she needed to be.

She was Sakurazuka Anila Miyu -- a young and beautiful member of Akashiman nobility who had decided to wander the world of Althanas for two years before returning to her homeland to honor a marriage arrangement. He was related to the King of Akashima, so of course her parents had been honored to arrange the match. There was no reason for Anila to refuse it. It would better her own position and honor her family. Love was so foreign a notion in regards to marriage that it was laughable.

But she had wanted that little taste of freedom before being resigned to the position of trophy bride and lady of the house. So less than a week before she set foot into the town, she had boarded a ship outbound from Corone to Alerar. The ship she had selected was the one to leave soonest, and her destination hadn't mattered.

She'd looked then exactly the same as she did now -- yellow kimono artfully done by the silent figure behind her, wooden sandals on her feet, hands folded in the great sleeves, hair arranged to perfection, and with face painted the purest white -- and her lips the bloodiest red. She found it convenient to have sleeves as big as she did, since they allowed her to hide things in them, such as the little gift she had for Lord Talbot. They also made convenient hiding places for her two steel fans, Hagane and Uindo, since special permit was needed to openly carry weapons in Alerar.

Finally, they arrived at the inn, and her guide vanished from beside her without another word. Her brown eyes regarded the exterior of the building with the same detachment they viewed everything. No point in delaying this any further, then.

Anila tilted her head to her servant, who opened the door so her mistress could step through unimpeded. As she entered the crowded tavern, Anila felt eyes turn to her -- she was short, beautiful, and different -- very few Akashimans were seen outside of their homeland, and of those, almost none of noble blood. And one here, all by herself...? Unthinkable.

She gave the room one of those perfect, shy little grins and looked around. There he was, at the bar. One of the few humans, and the only one with the right sort of bearing. There was an empty table not far beyond him, and she walked toward him, no bounce or wobble in her step -- floating over the tavern floor like a swan floated over the water. When she was almost to him, she made an abrupt turn, looking at him from the corner of her eyes, inviting him, daring him, to come join her.

When she got to the table, Hissomi checked to see that the table and chairs were suitably clean to not damage the beautiful silk of the kimono. Finding them so, she nodded, and Anila sat down, a perfect porcelain doll among a sea of others decidedly more crude.

[Iain]

She was small. Petite, even. Iain was far from an expert on women and their sizes, but from his vantage point at the bar this girl looked to be at least a hand and a half shorter than he, and Iain was by no means a tall man. Despite her size, quite possibly being the shortest person (human, drow, or otherwise) in the inn’s tavern, the newcomer had an aura about her that commanded respect from even the haggard drunks sitting in the far corners of the tavern. A servant opened the door for her, and the way she stepped over the jamb was daity, yet the step was confident enough for Iain to know that his woman was nobility, not some hack sent to give him help that would most likely hinder him to no end. At least, Iain assumed that she stepped; her yellow robes fell to the ground in such a way that her feet were invisible – she may as well have been floating.

Iain had to pinch his leg as a reprimand; he realized that he had been staring. Of course, so had every other occupant of the tavern, male and female, but it was the thought that counted. Iain turned back to his mulled wine, wishing to give the noblewoman just a glimmer of privacy, but he knew that his gesture was in vain. Swirling the red liquid in his glass, Iain stared into the whirling wine. He suddenly felt as if all the eyes in the room were on him, and realized that the girl was standing almost right next to him. He glanced over his shoulder and caught her eye. She smiled and gave him a look that made the hairs on his back rise, from the base of his spine to the nape of his neck, then turned away and proceeded, past the knight, to an empty table beyond.

He waited in anticipation as the woman’s maidservant helped her get seated at the table. His heart had not beaten this fast since the time when he was being assaulted by a group of fugitive drow in Istraloth, and his companion was incapacitated. He called the bartender back over when he had finished his wine and spoke in a rushed voice, beside himself. “Good man, I would like to order a wine for the woman over there. Put it on Lord Talbot’s tab.” The bartender grinned, knowing that this Lord Talbot was turning out to be great for business, and turned to prepare the wine.

Iain got off his bar stool and stretched, a lazy cat stretch which extended his arms to the sky and raised his body on the balls of his feet. Then he turned and walked over to the lady’s table. He took a deep breath before speaking. This woman unsettled him in a way he had never felt before, and he could not let this sort of feeling interfere with his mission. He gave the woman a small bow, an acknowledgement of her nobility and position, then addressed her directly. “My lady, I am Sir Iain Detrius of Harondale. I know not your name, but I assume that you are the one sent to assist me in the negotiations with the Salvic Lord Talbot. If I am mistaken, I beg your forgiveness, but if you are indeed to be my accomplice, I would like to ask if I may sit with you and discuss our mission.” He finished speaking, and waited eagerly for her to reply.

[Anila]

He took a minute to approach her, this young Nobleman from Salvar. He looked little more than a boy, and his movements were a lot like those of a boy, as well -- the lazy stretch when he got up to move marked him so.

Father would be appalled if Keiji dared move so. Then again...other nations are so very different.

As he approached her, a glass of wine was set beside her, and she handed this to Hissomi as he made his introduction. He was not tall, for a man, nor was his appearance particularly striking, with the deep set eyes and dark-blond hair that could not decide whether it wanted to be curly or straight.

Hissomi set the glass back down on the table as her mistress stood to make the ever-so slight bow common to an Akashiman greeting.

"I am Sakurazuka Anila Miyu...perhaps, in these lands, better said as Anila Miyu Sakurazuka." It bothered her, the inversion of family and personal names, but no matter. Not now.

"And I have been informed of you, Sir Detrius. We are indeed to work together in order to secure a trading agreement for Alerar with Salvar."

The sleeves parted for the first time, and a dainty hand gestured to the other seat at the table as the lady herself re-took her seat.

"Please, since we are to work together, sit and speak with me."

Anila took her glass and glanced at her servant. The mute looked unharmed by the wine, so her mistress took a sip, noting that it was a headier sort of wine than that of her own country. More than one glass would likely not be wise. Assessment made, she looked once again at the boy before her. Her brown eyes were piercing, as though by his next words and motions -- or even by how he breathed, he would irrevocably create Iain Detrius of Harondale, as she percieved him.

"I was not given the details of the mission. Perhaps you know more?" She spoke, and her words were soft, her tone conversational...but the eyes never lost their intensity.

[Iain]

“Well met, Sakurazuka Anila Miyu, the pleasure is all mine. For the sake of conversation, what would you prefer, Sakurazuka, Anila, Ms. Miyu?” Iain was pleased with the woman’s manners, and acknowledged her traditional greeting. She was clearly a noblewoman, in every sense of the label, but from what country or region Iain could not readily tell.

He waited for the woman to again take her seat, after her introduction, before placing his noble bottom on the bench across from the woman. Now that the initial maneuvers of meeting and greeting were done and finished, it was time for a dialogue. Fortunately for Iain, dialogue was his specialty and, seeing as it was the focal point of this excursion for both himself and the noblewoman, he could safely assume that she was equally skilled in the art of conversation.

Sitting on the hard wooden bench, Iain felt as if he were the subject of an inquisition of the Church of Eternal Sway back in Salvar. He had witnessed such proceedings before, but until now he had never been able to imagine what the men and women accused of religious infractions could possibly feel like, objects of the scrutiny of the most powerful persons in their country. Now, as he met the brown eyes of the woman sitting across from him at the table, he knew exactly how they felt. Immense pressure was on whatever words came out of the knight’s mouth next, and they would be weighed, measured, and forever define him in the eyes of this woman.

Grateful for a topic of conversation, Iain briefed the woman on the situation and all the details of the mission. Despite speaking with passion, every word was uttered in a voice so low it was almost a whisper, for in a place such as this not only the walls had ears: the tables and chairs could just as easily overhear their conversation, so avidly were the tavern’s other patrons straining to know what this displaced knight and beautiful woman could possibly be talking about.

“I know not what you have been told, so I will include everything. Lord Talbot is a very wealthy man, the proprietor of his own winery and a vast number of farms, as well as a renowned horse breeder. We are to convince his lordship that a deal of commerce with the nation of Alerar is in his best interest, using any means necessary. He is leaving early tomorrow morning on a grand tour of the nation, so this is our only opportunity to have him sign the treaty. I have in my possession two copies of an approved draft for this treaty, and if we can motivate him to mark them with his signature they will serve as official documents. However, if concessions must be made to make him more agreeable, I have been given the jurisdiction to change minor details. Here is one of the documents.”

Reaching into his satchel, Iain pulled out a rolled up parchment that was tied with a purple ribbon. Digging in his bag a moment more, he also produced a small folded paper, which he discreetly slipped into one end of the scroll. Then he offered the scroll to the woman, holding one end of it loosely with his left hand. Waiting for her to take the parchment from his outstretched hand, the knight could not resist this opportunity for flattery.

“It will be a pleasure to work with someone who may at least appear to know what they are doing, although I suspect you are far more skilled than I could imagine.”

[Anila]

Anila almost sighed when he asked what she preferred to be called. Apparently he thought that Miyu was her familial name, and that would not do at all. She allowed him to sit down and try not to fidget before she spoke again, answering his question.

"Allow me one minute, before you answer my question, to answer yours and clarify my name a little bit. I am from northern Akashima. Akashima is a tiny country bordering Corone, and has largely been unaffected by the recent civil war there. In my homeland, it is customary for the family name to be placed before the familiar name. Thus, my father is Sakurazuka Yukio, my mother is Sakurazuka Masumi, and my older brother is Sakurazuka Keiji. Technically, I am Sakurazuka Anila, but I take both Anila and Miyu for reasons of my own. For purposes of conversation, I would prefer to be called by my familial name. If you feel the need to call me 'Miss' or 'Lady' Sakurazuka, you may."

She allowed him to take it in, noting his discomfort at the intensity of her gaze. She decided to let it be...if he could push through and present himself well, she would think all the more highly of this boy who sat before her.

"Now, please, I believe you were going to give me what information you had on our mission?"

She listened as the boy spoke, quickly, passionately, softly. Quickly -- unwise, too rushed, too important. Passionately -- eager, which could be good or bad. She approved of his soft tone, though, preventing any others in the tavern from hearing the important conversation.

She took the scroll from him, holding the piece of parchment he had slipped into it between her body and the trading agreement. Apparently the Talbot family would be easy to manipulate...the Lady was, to put things delicately, in love with whichever man was most attractive at the time. The son was a coward. And for a man in charge of a large system of farmland, as well as a fine vineyard and stable...the only son was an important resource.

I'd like to see this son...

Anila then looked over the agreement. Everything was in order for her...save for one rather significant detail. She looked at Iain and smiled sweetly.

"If change of the agreement is indeed in your power, I have a proposal. You see, I was not sent in the employ of the King, I was sent in the employment of a very interested third party. We recognize the benefit of a trade relationship between the Talbots and Alerar to be beneficial to all concerned, and the boost in economy for Alerar will surely boost our own economy, which is dependant on Alerar's. What we would be interested in doing is negotiating the exchange of goods each season, and overseeing shipments. This would save both Alerar and Lord Talbot much trouble, and our modest fee charged for services rendered would be significantly less than it would cost for Alerar and the Talbot empire to handle the entire proceedings."

[Iain]

Anila…

It was a curious name, but it fit in with the mishmash of knowledge that Iain had of Akashima. A very introverted nation, with no interest in adventuring or other countries, other than trading purposes. It was very unusual, Iain gathered, for this girl, obviously royalty, to be in Alerar and not in her homeland being married off to some rich old man. She must be betrothed, for that was the way of Akashima, if he could remember correctly. His heart sank a little with the revelation that Anila was promised to another man, but he was over it quickly. He had not come to the Flask and Flagon for a relationship…well, he had, but not of that sort.

Anila took the scroll in her delicate white hands and scanned over it with her intense gaze. When she looked up, Iain had no idea what to expect. He felt squeamish under her scrutiny, and it was all he could do to resist squirming in his seat as he waited for Anila to share her opinion of the proposal. The knight met her gaze evenly, and she smiled at him. Her lips, such a deep red, parted and formed exotic gymnastics as they shaped the words of Anila’s response. Iain was mesmerized, missing the first few words that the girl spoke, but he tuned in when his brain reminded him of the situation’s importance.

“…employment of a very interested third party.”

It would not be difficult at all for Iain to write this “third party” into the trade agreement. However, as attractive as he thought Anila to be, he was not about to write her organization into the treaty without information. He reached into his satchel again, this time producing a writing quill and an inkwell. While he prepared for writing, he spoke to Anila.

“Well, Miss Sakurazuka…may I have the draft back so I may make your proposed changes?”

The girl handed the scroll back, and Iain placed it on the table. He ran his eyes over it to find the appropriate clause for modification. Ah, there it was! Near the bottom, it read:


And all parties, including but not limited to Lord Cameron Talbot of Salvar and his highness King Edari'axa of Alerar, shall conduct trade on a route to be predetermined and agreed upon by all parties. All trade on this route bearing the appropriate traveling document will be immune to scrutiny and inspection by the authorities of any party save their own, and will have no tariff of protection placed on their wares. The company used to ship goods is not designated by this binding agreement, but must be decided and declared officially within three weeks of this conference, or his Majesty the King reserves the right to designate a company for all other parties.

He was willing to make changes for this woman, but first he had a few questions. “Lady Anila, protocol requires that I ask you a few questions before making modifications to this agreement. I must know the name of your third party organization, as well as the name of its recognized leader. Personally I see the practicality of your proposal, but the King must also be convinced. What percentage of the profits do you propose your company would procure, or what fee? I know I seem to be prying, but everything I ask is required or me by law.”

[Anila]

A soft smile touched Anila's lips as Iain demanded -- politely, of course, and well within the bounds of his right -- to know the organization she was representing. She was beginning to gain a working respect for this boy. She had caught the glazed over look in his eyes as she began speaking, had seen his eyes drawn to her lips, the bright spot of color. But he had pulled himself back in time to not need her to repeat anything. And in the midst of what she assumed to be a boyish attraction to an exotic female, he had kept his wits turned to business.

"The organization I represent is known as the Grander's Order, headed by Grander Raelyse Salidan. Our proposed fees for the service are, you will agree, quite modest, and the services provided by the Order go beyond what any Alerar transport could provide. Namely, we are not enemies with Raiaera, or any other nation, for that matter. Therefore, our risk of coming under attack is low. The same cannot be said for Alerar vessels."

She could see that he would try to haggle with her over price...although maybe not by too much. She believed five to seven percent of the profit was a reasonable gain...thousands to hundreds of thousands of gold gained each year, with little risk and ruckus.

"What we propose, instead of the fifteen percent flat rate that is not uncommon in many parts of the world, that we receive compensation for our transportation expenses -- which will be modest, as well as ten percent of the total profit, either in gold or in goods."

To ask for ten percent was not unreasonable, by any stretch of the imagination. However, ten was a number with two digits, in the writing system this culture used. Once one got into double digits when talking about percentages, there was a mental block, as though what was being requested was too much. If he granted her ten -- which he doubted she would -- so much the better. But he would not dare haggle her down very far.