Sunset of the Wandering Souls
Chapter 22

The Uauab was a bar with rentable rooms above it, crammed between two similar looking buildings. It was a considerable distance from the docks, facing away from the sea but it had still seen better days. The paint was chipping, the doors were one more windstorm before falling off their hinges, and the windows were marred with years of grime. It certainly wasn’t a place I would have expected to replace a duke, especially one that’s been in Port for who knows how long.

Inside of the Uauab appeared just as shoddy as the outside. Dimly lit by small crystals trapped in former oil lamps casted grim shadows over the few patrons. A barmaid eyed Innin and he let go of Pili’s and my arm to talk to her. I stepped a little closer to Pili upon my second glance of the patrons. My gut told me they weren’t in a respectable line of work, and Innin asked the knights to stay outside. Pili took my hand, giving it a little squeeze that made me feel a little better. Innin paid our handholding no mind as when he returned and led us up a flight of stairs. I assumed was because our year was ending, soon I’d be married to Lady Oglin and given the crown. He most likely figured it was better to let me get it out of my system. I couldn’t just ignore my feelings.

We walked down a small hallway, stopping in front of the last door on the right. Innin knocked, then allowed me to take his place in opposite the door. I took a deep breath, calming myself. I was the one who wanted diplomacy, I would be the one to get my hopes crushed. To know for certain that a war could not be avoided with the Diatessians. I was certain I didn’t know my law as well as I had fooled myself into thinking I did. The door creaked open, all my worries would have to be dealt with later. A man with a scowl on his face stepped out, quietly closing the door behind him. His black wolf-like ears stood straight up, a bushy black tail staying completely still behind his legs. “What is it?”

I removed the hood of my cloak, patting down little fly aways from my hair. “I wish to speak with the Duke of Shu’al.”

He crossed his arms. “Why should I let you?”

I stood a little straighter, my tail wrapping around my leg and tucking the tip inside my boot. “I am Crown Prince Ezollen of the Reissu, and I have something to offer him in exchange for an audience.” I motioned for Pili to pull out all his little jars, and as we did the man fixed his gaze on the ingredients, asking what it all was. “The components for crow’s tears. May I have that audience?”

“Pardon the delayed introduction, Ezollen,” the way he said my name, and the exclusion of any honorific was grating to my ears. “I’m the Duke of Shu’al. If you’ll give me a moment, we can speak in private.” With a bow of my head he retreated into his room. He allowed Pili and me to enter moments later. The Duke took a seat next to a small round table, pulling his legs into an awkward crisscross; it was clear he wasn’t used to the chairs here. “Try not to be too loud,” he motioned to the chair across from him, “my…companion is sleeping for the first time in a while.”

“We’ll mind our manners.” I sat after quietly asking Pili to prepare the crow’s tears. I kept my feet firmly planted on the wooden floor. “Lord Duke, are you aware of the situation in Diatessia, former Qotut?”

He kept his focus on what Pili was doing, only irritating me a little further. “Those are in the Eastern Plains?” The Duke drummed his fingers on the table. “What of it?”

I explained to him everything I knew about the revolt, the refugees, the threat to the Interior. “I need a writ or a promise, something that will absolve the Reissu of punishment if we choose diplomacy or declare war.”

He shifted his focus to me, piercing eyes assessing my very being. I sat up straighter under the weight. “Why aren’t you able to do so now without punishment?”

“The Accords from the Great Conflict restrict us greatly,” I said. “If the Reissu so much as whisper wanting to start or keep a war from starting, we forfeit our right to govern ourselves.”

“Yes, I’m well aware.” He stopped his drumming, fingernails digging into the soft wooden table. “And you, what, want to forgo years of peace?”

“What peace, Lord Duke?” I asked, leaning forward some. “A forceful revolution pushed countless into the Interior and the Territories. It is heading to my doorstep to do the same to my people.” I took a breath, trying to keep my voice even, not to let anger seep in. “All I wish for is the right to regulate inter-nation relations. I don’t want to watch my people murdered because we are unable to do so.”

The Duke fell silent, ears twitching in what seemed to be anger. I kept my eyes focused on him, I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of me turning away. I anticipated his answer; I pushed the thought to kneel and bear my wings to him away. I didn’t think customs known to the tribes would hold weight with our foreign conquerors. “I believe in the Accords.” He set his jaw, “Whatever you end up doing with the Plains, Ezollen, do not trust anyone.” Pili placed a jar filled with a bluish-black liquid on the table, the Duke’s eyes wandered to it as he finished his thought. “The eyes and ears of the empire are everywhere.”

I stood, bowed slightly to give my thanks as Pili answered his question on the use of crow’s tears. I placed my hood back on my head, Pili and I leaving quietly. “Innin,” I grabbed the sleeve of his shirt, wanting to be a child a little bit longer. “I fear our only choice is to go to war.”