The Heavenly Lord’s Ambassador. A Kingdom Like No Other. Book 1. Андрей Кочетков
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is today. Almost four hundred years ago, it encompassed five independent kingdoms, each of which was fairly large. The western border lies along the Sandomar Kai ridge, which can only be crossed at the legendary Tueta Pass. Today, the pass is covered by a giant glacier. Many centuries ago, at the dawn of the Virilan era, the master bowman Enevir Chenis stood in that pass and single-handedly repelled an entire army that had been sent to destroy a Virilan monastery. To the north, Virilan is bordered by the Great Expanse, but little is known about that land. To the east, the country ends at the Dancing Ocean, where heavy currents make seafaring dangerous. South of Virilan is the Mirror Sea, and there is a Capotian trading post called Manibortish on the coast. All of Virilan’s trade with the outside world goes through that single location. Foreigners are not allowed to enter the country.”
“We already knew that,” said Dorgoe, sounding snippy. “Tell us more about the country. Who is its ruler? What are their laws and customs like? How many people are there? Are they wealthy? Do they have a large army?”
“I, too, would like to hear more about their military,” Tameto said. “I will add a word when you are done, for I have first-hand information.”
“I will do my best,” said Uni, trying not to lose his train of thought. “Let me see. Their customs are very different from ours. They are ruled by a wise Emperor who lives in an elaborate palace and rarely shows himself to his subjects. Their laws are harsh and extensive, even going as far as to regulate how to get out of bed in the morning. Refugees from kingdoms conquered by the Virilans recount other strange things. Supposedly, they never display signs of happiness or sadness. They know neither fear nor pity, and they are not afraid of the cold. They can go for weeks without food or water, since all they need is air to survive. Some say that their faces are like death masks with icy cold eyes. I have even seen it said that they are actually bloodthirsty demons who only look like humans.” Here, he paused for effect. “Virilans have no parental instincts. Their children are taken away at a tender age and raised by special tutors. All children – male and female – are taught to use weapons, and most private disputes are resolved by duel. Everyone in Dashtornis has heard that the strength of Virilan swords cannot be matched by any other weapon. Their soldiers never tire, and their discipline is unmatched. They never run in battle, even when faced by an enemy with greater numbers. They believe in terrible, fearsome gods who demand blood sacrifice in the form of children from the lands they conquer.”
“Is Virilan often at war with its neighbors?”
“We do not know, unfortunately. You see, all we have to go by is the Viada chronicle, which describes the war of the Fifth Kingdom. The Virilans expelled from their lands all those who did not accept their rules, so we have no more sources of information about the country.”
Again, Ronko stepped in to help. “I have questioned Capotian merchants in great detail. It goes without saying that they are reluctant to share what they know; however, I was able to ascertain that they knew even less than we do. The Capotians merely bring their wares ashore in Manibortish, load Virilan weapons and grain onto their ships and sail back home, often without even seeing a single Virilan. Apparently, they keep to themselves because they have a great suspicion of outsiders.”
“Yes, of course, I forgot to add that,” Uni jumped in. “They believe that all foreigners are beneath them, perhaps not even human.”
Forsey straightened up and looked around the room. “Well, my lords, who still wants to send a delegation to Virilan? It’s obvious that they are incapable of civilized negotiation.”
“I see nothing particularly unusual in what we’ve been told,” said Dorgoe, unexpectedly adopting a friendly tone. “All barbarians believe themselves to be exceptional. That tends to clear up once they gain a greater understanding of our culture.”
“Actually, Virilans are fairly cultured,” Uni said, feeling he needed to stand up for his hobby interest. “I would even say they are too cultured, in the literal sense of the word. They are so polite among themselves that even our customs of palace ceremony fall far short.”
Forsey looked annoyed. “I see that being asked to address this august assembly has gone to the young man’s head,” he grumbled, thrown off by his friend’s warm reception of Uni’s monologue. “Otherwise, he would never dare to cast aspersions on palace etiquette, especially in the presence of…” and he looked around the room with his eyebrows raised. “And another thing. Just a minute ago you said that the Virilans are a fierce people with no understanding of human feeling. As anyone with the slightest education knows, that is a characteristic of barbarians, those who look human but have the hearts of wild animals. Wisdom and etiquette are only possible here, in the greatest Heavenly Empire, where the Bright Deity shines its warmth on all the land. Those lands at the edges of the earth suffer from never seeing the whole face of the Giver of Life, and the people who live there are crude and prone to violence. It would be a rare thing indeed to meet a cultured person in a place like that.”
“You know, Forsey,” Ronko drawled, “the empire has sent ambassadors to barbarians with worse reputations than the Virilans. We are here to discuss the empire’s interests, not to find dubious reasons to shy away from a decision that has been taking shape for a long time.”
“Taking shape?” Forsey spat out. “I spent the last hour explaining the catastrophic consequences to you, but you seem not to have heard me. How can you talk about the Empire’s interests when your own interest is confined to the lining of your pockets? You would sell out the Empire to earn a profit!”
Ronko was about to make an angry reply, but the young man whose face seemed so friendly to Uni took control of the conversation.
“You two seem intent on turning this council into a circus. We gathered here to discuss the Empire’s future in an informal atmosphere, without regard to rank, but that does not mean you are entitled to behave like street fighters.” He took a deep breath. “Now, tell us, Uni, am I correct that all of our knowledge dates to the ancient period when our empire took in refugees from the former Five Kingdoms that are now Virilan?”
“You are absolutely correct. The historical chronicles I based my report on date to that period.”
“Then we’re back where we started,” Tameto burst out. “This librarian – or whatever he is – is useless if you need current information! If you ask me…”
“Be quiet, Necium. We will hear what you have to say,” the man said with composure. He leaned forward slightly, and his emerald eyes fixed on Uni with pensive sadness. “In your opinion, how useful is the information we have?”
“It is out of date, of course, but not useless. You see, Virilans are a very conservative people. Given that their way of life is so different from that of any other country, they have no choice but to maintain vigilance in the defense of the traditions they have fought so hard to keep. No, I think the few changes that may have taken place can only be for the better. Years of peace and stability soften the heart and make it more amenable to temptations from the outside.”
“Exactly!” exclaimed the green-eyed man. “You have said very succinctly something I’ve been thinking about for a long time. A man may despise society, but if you lock him away from that society for ten years, he will lose his mind. Do you remember, Forsey?” He turned the other way. “You said it yourself: cultures are like living organisms. They are born, grow, and fight over resources with other cultures. Just like living organisms, they cannot withstand long periods of solitude. I am convinced that Virilan was ready long ago to come into contact with us. If we help them take that first step, we will be able to derive handsome profit for the empire.”
“Absolutely!” Ronko burst out, pleased at the support. “If we had a treaty on trade, our treasury revenue could double. All of you…” he gestured with his palm at the circle, “…are well aware that we use more grain with each year and that our harvests cannot keep up. Wealthy landowners use every trick in the book to take over the peasants’ fields, but instead of planting grain, they use the land to pasture their animals or grow grapes. We are buying more and more grain every year from the Capotians, and they are turning a fat profit