B.T.V. -- Session 14 Prologue: A Red Carriage and a Red Face

Ambassador Phileas gathered all his patience for a last attempt to successfully conclude his journey to Adrilankha. If this didn’t work, he would return to Fenario in abject failure. He glanced upward at the empress seated on the two hundred millennia old, Draegeran Throne. He couldn't tell what she was thinking. Her eyes were covered by the royal veil. The empress's thoughts could not be known be means of observation, psychic intrusion nor sorcery.

“Your Exaltedness, my entreaties are poor. I see now that it is the messenger not the message that is to blame. If you will not accept my version, trust that the underlying truth is what matters? The war will go forward. The Draegeran Empire must side with Fenario. If it were to be otherwise, the world will burn. I implore your High Majesty to consid – ”.

Phileas halted. His attaché whispered to him in clipped, terse bursts.

Empress Zerika IV, Serene Phoenix, last of her kind, awaited with a mixture of compassion and interest. An underling would interrupt only for the most serious of reasons. Zerika could think of only a couple of possibilities.

The ambassador cleared his throat giving a fair impression of a swamp dweller calling for a mate, “Empress, I have happy news. The hostilities are not to occur. The war will not happen.”

“War is deferred?”

“The Grand Duchy has elected to see sense at the final knell. Grand Duke Sjandy will revoke the Blade Tax, effective immediately. A case of swords being beaten by plowshares.”

“Joyous tidings, most certainly, Ambassador. Is there more the great kingdom of Fenario requires of this queen?” Zerika presented the Fenarian ambassador with her most serene smile.

Phileas made another croaking noise. He bowed and waving his attaché before him retreated from the throne room in haste. Some fool would pay for his embarrassment. A wasted trip made worse by this occasion and the prospect of another long trip home. Someone must have known he would be made to look ridiculous. Not just him but by association, King Nalodine. Phileas couldn’t get out of the Adrialnkhan imperial palace quick enough. When he finally managed it, his coach was nowhere to be seen.

“Locate my carriage and be swift about it. I have had enough of draegerans for a few months.”

“Where will I look, Ambassador?”

“It’s a burning, scarlet coach. How many can there be, even in this city? Get it or any other that is capable of getting me out of here and on the road south.”

“Aye, Ambassador.”

“Fill the thing with drink and victuals as well. It’s a long ride home.” He shouted after the departed attaché. No food and what passed for potable brandy in Adrilankha would be a further punishment added to this day’s losses.







Zerika called her dressers to her. The formal cloak of state was dispensed with and she sighed in relief. She donned a less imposing but far more comfortable robe and left the dais room. She glanced back to the throne. It had been a few days since the room had been penetrated by an unknown number of intruders. They had done no damage, except to the reputations of her most trusted official wings of defence. The Special Tactics Group had been working furiously on the subject of whom these intruders could be. Only the certainty that the room was impervious to the jenoine, gave her any peace. That and the single, silver flower that had been left on her throne. A thing most wonderful, the bloom looked as if it had been crafted by a sorcerer, gleaming silver petals surmounting a slightly duller silver stem, incredibly life-like in all aspects. When looked at carefully, the evidence of casting could not be detected and the reality that this flower had grown and until snipped, had lived became obvious. Zerika would learn of its source if she were able. The effort of her empire was already committed to its discovery. Draegerans could be counted on to be predictable when it came to such things. Peace would allow the explorations to continue.


Peace. Zerika smiled at the thought. The peace between the Kingdom of Fenario and The Grand Duchy of Two Rivers had been brokered by the newcomer, the Tai-Pan. Zerika had only read his words in brief messages. The most recent, delivered last night, had informed her of the brokered ceasation of hostilities. All these messages were delivered by elderly, eastern women, each more frail than the previous. Zerika could only guess at the reasoning for this choice of messenger. It seemed almost cruel to make the old crones make such a journey. For their part, when she asked them, the women were categorical in their enjoyment of the trip and only asked that they be allowed to remain in Adrilankha until recovered. The empress could hardly deny them this privilege, although she believed some might never live to make their way east again.


Easterners could be such a puzzle. Which was a bigger mystery; the old women’s ability to cope with the travel or this Pan’s reason for sending them? He’d managed to stave off a war, however. Zerika wondered at that too. What had he promised to the Grand Duke to get him to change his mind? The Blade Tax was a masterful idea even if poorly executed. Any ruler would be proud of that piece of legislation. A tax on all blades. The monies collected would be large. She would never venture to raise such a tax on her draegeran citizens but admired the forcefulness of the duke for issuing it. Somehow the Tai-Pan had achieved the rescindment of the duke’s edict. A notable success. She smiled remembering the ambassador’s hasty departure. For every victor, there is a loser.






The scarlet carriage was seen driving in several districts where ambassadors’ carriages usually weren’t seen over the next few weeks. The ambassador had long since left the city so it was no particular concern to those of Fenario. A certain verdosau had ‘borrowed’ it. Presumably, as the minds of verdosau are unreadable, he found the colour appealing and hoped his mistress would view it similarly. She was one not to disappoint. Basylikan was content with her reaction.