Book 8: Chapter 57: Messages
As promised, the Third Army of Khiva withdrew, though not entirely. Guards remained posted along the border; for the first time in centuries, Khiva had reason to guard its northern flank. The Archeans did likewise, erecting watchtowers and choosing sentinels from among their militia. Atreus stayed in the area, stalking the withdrawing army; he returned when he had seen it enter the gates of Nahavand and could confirm no troops remained near the border river except for a handful of guards.
Frantic days followed for the Archeans. Working together, Henry and Cornelia deepened the border river, making it impassable on foot; it greatly increased its defensibility and would slow down any invading force.
The first shipment of iron arrived from the mountains. The metal traders in Morcaster owned part of it, but transporting it overland was not feasible and shipping down the river impossible, so the Archeans kept it for themselves. Much of it went to replacing or repairing tools, including crafting a lot of nails, but some of it was spent on heads for arrows and spears.
Valerius and Eleanor trained the militia, as much as time allowed it. Some, including women with the requisite strength, were chosen to become archers; thanks to rune-tipped arrows, even a middling archer would be deadly.
Maximilian chose the public house used by the Khivan guests as the first location for his infirmary until a building better suited for the purpose could be built. Martel and Atreus had earlier made plans for everything that Archen needed, including a home for their government, once made more permanent, and a location for their school of magic. For now, such concerns had to wait in favour of root cellars and granaries, workshops and forges.
Martel continued to enchant. Fire pots at first, ensuring a large supply for their militia. Afterwards, he focused on lightstones; the miners had received most of those available, considering where they plied their trade. Once that need had been satisfied, he returned to heating stones, preparing their homes for winter.
And when harvest season was near its end, a messenger came from Khiva.
The unofficial Conclave gathered. Martel knew at some point they would have to address the political structure of their city; restricting influence to only mages would cause issues eventually. But until the threat of war had gone and their survival seemed assured, Martel focused on immediate challenges.
“What is it?” asked Eleanor as the mages trickled into the tent they still used as their assembly. “Your runner did not explain.”
“Atreus came from the border. The Khivans sent their message,” Martel explained. “Any sign of soldiers?” asked Valerius.
“None. But I will return immediately to scout,” the spellbreaker declared.
“Well?” Maximilian gestured towards the letter in Martel’s hand. “What does it say?”
“It is not exactly a peace treaty, considering war was never declared. Nor would I consider the contents friendly. But in short, Khiva accepts our settlement of these lands, with the warning that none of our people may set foot south of the border. Nor may we sail in their waters or conduct trade in any of their ports or cities. Basically, they will pretend we don’t exist, and if we break the illusion, they will respond,” Martel explained.
“That’s good, though, isn’t it?” Henry looked around the tent. “No war. We’re safe. We can focus on building the city rather than our defences.”
“Except we had hoped to trade with Nahavand, dear,” Cornelia told him, seated by his right hand. “We better not have any poor harvest.”
“We can’t really trade with anyone. The mountains keep us from the Tyrians, for better or worse. Aster is too long a journey by land for any goods we have to sell, except our Khivan curiosities, which they won’t buy,” Martel added. “The metal traders will have to send their own ship to collect their ore. The Savena is closed waters to us.”
“We should build a pier,” Eleanor considered. “Not on the border river, but our own, close to Archen. Some barges as well. We can float our goods down to where the tributaries gather and meet any Asterian ships there.”
“I can oversee that. But I will need timber,” Cornelia said.
Valerius nodded. “I shall have the lumberjacks and carpenters supply you. What else? Do we withdraw our watch of the border? Having those men idle is costly, considering all the work still to be done here.”
“I do not know these Khivans like you do,” Maximilian remarked gruffly, “but are they to be trusted? This is a message. Not a signed treaty. It is worth less than a promise.”
Nobody had strong opinions, perhaps due to the many challenges and uncertainties they faced. They all looked towards Martel, the sage of their Triumvirate. “We keep the watch. Even if their king is true to his word, it only takes one fanatical captain to lead his men across the border.”
“What about the Khivans who don’t hate magic?” Atreus leaned forward, stroking his thin beard. “We can’t come to them for trade. But our arrangement with their nation doesn’t prevent them from coming to us. In fact, we could welcome them.”
“How would you get them to trust us? How would you even spread word when we cannot go there in the first place?” Valerius asked sensibly.
The spellbreaker shrugged. “If I don’t wish to be seen, I won’t be. We have animal skins; we can produce our own parchment. Can we make ink? All it takes are the right messages distributed to the right people – or the desperate.”
Hours upon hours spent in the workshop of the Lyceum returned to Martel. “I know how to make ink. I’ll need a proper workshop, though. The place I use for apothecary will get too small. Or maybe I can get an apprentice and teach the process. No magic is involved – no reason it has to be me.”
“We will find you someone suitable,” Eleanor promised.
Atreus smiled. “Better find someone literate among the Khivans. We don’t want our message undercut by bad spelling.”
Martel glanced around the tent. Everyone knew what to do; even without these gatherings, endless tasks piled themselves on top of each other, naturally gravitating towards those with the right skills. “Meeting adjourned.”