A New Council for a New Year

[channe]

"You don't even know what the Bright is," says Kostroma, and then he stops himself -- this is one of his hot-button issues, and oh, he cannot look weak in front of this man, this infuriating Governor who is making his whole year quite annoying. He waves a hand, drinks some more tea --

"Just say it out loud. You want me to fix everything back to the way it was before she came to Razasan. I can't do that, but perhaps, in return for a very small thing -- not even a favor -- I can do something... similar."

[Glenn]

"Well, now first I want you to tell me what the Bright is." Burnie said, now rather amused, though he hid it well. After a build up like that, he was too curious not to know. It sounded like one of those goofy religious things paladins clung to right up to the point where they got their head twisted off by large undead ogres, or whatever.

"I want you to free her. If that means fixing her, that is preferable. If that means she stays exactly as she is now but has free will, then that is acceptable, If that means she rests in peace, that is less preferable but still more so than enforced slavery. Name what you can do. Name your terms. She is OURS. Is Myrken's but I am limited in what I can do for her sake, if it puts everyone else in harm's way. Heavy is the head and all that.." He didn't quite mention a crown. Wouldn't THAT have infuriated Kostoma?

[channe]

The lord considers this; in the firelight, his silver medals shine. Without a single word, he lifts his left hand -- like Agnie's, each of his fingers sports a gold-and-ruby ring -- and raises it like a priest's towards the sky. The firelight in the center pit begins to flicker, to die -- and then, abruptly, tongues of fire sprout from Kostroma's palm but do not burn him; they flicker, strong and bright, against his fingers and his face.

"Those of us who have been with the One God are the only ones who can know," he says, quietly. "I can't tell you what the Bright is. You must experience it for yourself. Luckily, everyone does, sooner or later." His mouth forms a crooked, amused smile. Abruptly, he drops his hand and the firepit blazes to normal. He puts the tea down on a nearby table and crosses his hands.

"I would miss Captain Kaczmarek, of course, but you make an impassioned case and I am not without some heart. Fine. She will be freed of her contract on her own recognizance. I cannot... fix her, not that someone who has experienced the Bright would... want to be fixed." He smiles a little. "I will do this on the following terms: One. You will gladly welcome any troops and projects sent north by Razasan, and two: You will never ally with, provide aid or succor for, or kneel to Thessilane or any of Thessilane's agents, and, indeed, you will publicly decry Thessilane's occupation of Derry immediately."

[Glenn]

"Well, if you can't tell me what it is, I'm just going to keep on assuming what I assume." And be utterly irritating about it too. Maybe that'd just drive Kostoma to try to make him meet the One God early, but right about now, Burnie wouldn't entirely mind an encounter like that.

"First, I can hardly say no to troops. But if troops do come up, they will work with us, cooperate, and furthermore, if PROJECTS come up, then they will be coupled with aid, and a great deal of it. Far more aid than the projects would warrant." If Kostoma really wanted to break the old ways,and his presence here would indicate just that, it'd cost him more than Agnie. "I cannot sell it to my people otherwise and little would I want to. It is my sworn duty to keep their best interests at heart. Taxes are one thing, but if you want anything further, it will come with assistance. And if the Council decides something you propose is not best for Myrken, I will, of course, bow to their decision. I am a first amongst equals here."

"Second, I have no great love for Thessaline. I will certainly not aid them in any project THEY have that would harm the crown or its interests. Not for a moment. I will not bow to them. Of that you will have my sworn word." There was the rest though. He opened his arms reasonably. "My agents are there. Their agents are here. Neither is offered any support or succor, but both are tolerated. Their merchants trade with ours. Innocent people not associated with Burel's ambitions."

Then, the very last point and here Burnie smiled. "I suspect I might have a few things to say about Thessaline at my first public address. I'm rarely at a loss for words, though I know that's hard to imagine." Well, then, compromise. "Agnie's loyalties will be split at best. no? You're not coming out of this meeting with less than what you wanted. I'm well aware of that. Depending on what she decides, she may have a role with our government. I think, if given the freedom, she'll side with her homeland and family, but if she does not, you'll have an agent on the inside. We can call that a little gamble between you and I, a friendly test to seal our deal."

[channe]

Constantine Kostroma sees no need to explain any of his demands further, and he smiles inwardly to see that Glenn Burnie has made a few deductive leaps in logic that may or may not be true. The man can assume what he wants about the lord's abilities or what kind of construct it creates in him; it makes no difference to Kostroma whether or not the new Governor knows the truth.

"Mmm. I agree, our troops must cooperate as much as possible -- but any decisions regarding Trae Kelsan troop movements will be made by the Trae Kelsan military commander in the area, and not by your militia commander, who may be quite capable, but cannot handle command of the King's Own, trust me there. Nevertheless, any other military decisions will be made with the utmost respect for the militia and the people of Myrken Wood. As for your request for aid, Kelsaen House will be consistently staffed with emissaries from Razasan from now on, and you may apply there for what you need, like any of the other territories. I imagine you will find the bureaucracy... somewhat friendlier than of old, although you will understand, sir, that some things are impossible and simply cannot be arranged. And, finally, your *Council* is in a position to negotiate very little. Not with war on the line. But I suppose some leeway may be arranged for... projects that frighten them." Frighten them, he says, like they are weeping little girls.

The serving-maid pours another steaming cup of tea, and Kostroma lifts it carefully. "As for Thessilane -- it warms the heart of our King to hear that you do not support the turncoat. However, I am quite disturbed at the fact that you know they still have agents here; if you are to hold a secure position against possible invasion, man, you must root out the spies and send them packing. Burel's fondness for Myrken Wood will only go so far. Without secure intelligence, Thessilane has already won. Do you understand?"

And finally -- the question of his subordinate. A pause, a sip of tea, a twirl of a spoon -- "Captain Kaczmarek," he begins, "will side with her homeland and family." An inscrutable look. It's obvious he's not saying everything, but it seems he does not plan to elaborate.

[Glenn]

Or maybe Burnie's done more research into this matter in his efforts to save Agnieszka and he's just acting a provincial. ... Or maybe he's just that biased against the man and his Bright. It was hard to say these days. Thankfully, neither of them really cared what the other thought on the matter.

"Respect is good. Cooperation is better." Simply put, what was Burnie going to do when it came to the Trae Kelsa military? Fight them? That would be futile, though, again, Myrken would do a fine job of bloodying their royal noses before Burel intervened. Perhaps they'd even be a difference maker. Perhaps not. All he COULD do was try to leverage things to their advantage. "But heed my words, and with respect, if you please. The last thing you and yours should want is for Myrken to end up a battleground in this war. There are things here, unpleasant things, and we hold the line as we have done for generations, but these are the sort that feed upon war and strife and conflict. You and Burel both would quickly be fighting in battles where winning is meaningless and where everyone loses. Ask Agony if you don't believe me. It's in her blood."

He finally took another sip of the replenished tea. No more joking to neatly dressed serving girls. "As for the Council... as I shamefully admit, we are provincial and backwards, and if they are conservative and fearful on a matter, it is good of you, and again representative of our long traditional relationship, that you may pay heed." Then with a slight smile. "I will, of course, do my best to present the royal needs as clearly and effectively as I can, with all due incentives for Myrken noted." Back to that, then, smoothly worked back into the conversation. He knew a thing or two about bureaucracies, yes he did.

What next, then? Ahh... "Vigilance, then. I will do my best to root out their SPIES." And should he leave it at that? It was rather disingenuous and if Kostoma WAS staying, there was little gained by that. "But will not bar our gates to their official representatives... no matter how little I can stand Cristoph al'Nerun and how much a thorn Lamai can be. Truly, their presence here gives YOU a chance to interact with them directly, likely for the good of all." It was simple logic. Kostoma was stuck out here in Myrken where no one from Trae Kelsa ever wanted to be (and for good reason). He had little to personally or professionally gain here even if it was a bit more upon the march. The chance to act as the king's representative in direct talks with Burel's representative was not something he would have been allowed back in Razasan, though. Now Burnie was making it well clear that it would be more than possible here. "Controlled communication out here in the wilderness." Though he never mentions the word neutrality outright. He's no fool, even if he occasionally plays one.

As for the last point, Burnie just raises his eyes at him. "I feel so as well, but after a bit more of a struggle, mind you. She has her freedom in this. That means if she wants to rush back to you and form another contract for a few shiny beads, that's on her. That's what freedom means. But if you already agree, then there's little enjoyment in THAT particular wager." Now to the guards and the butler, as if surveying them for thoughts. "What do you think would be interesting?" To the following silence, the tiniest of shrugs. "In response to all those threats and cajoling from before, then, how about this. If i last six months in my position, and I admit freely history and circumstance make that a big if, even with your august support in the province, I receive a landed title. The king has some sparse holdings out in the Myrken countryside. I can't imagine his revenues there are all that high. More symbolic than anything else. I like symbols, though. I think that a fair wager?" He had shifted back to playful so suddenly.

[channe]

Kostroma listens to all of this, the firelight on his medals, one hand around the teacup resting on the table and the other on his knee. There are a few moments of silence before he takes another perfectly mannered sip of tea, and this time, he does not look pleased.

"You would do well in Razasan," Kostroma says quietly, narrowing his eyes at the man. "I imagine you on the terrace at Martingale House, playing politics. You are simply wasted out here on these provincials. Let me explain something, Burnie." Not Governor; not lord, but Burnie. "You almost had me believing that your motives were pure -- that you truly cared for the people of Myrken Wood. And now you want a landed title, simply for surviving! You obviously think me a common courtier, trading in the livelihoods of my people for fun. I am a servant of the Bright and the honor of my king and of Trae Kelsa is Not. For. Sale."

He rises from his chair. "I do believe our conversation is over. You may have your girl; you may have your aid. If you are still alive and Governor in six months, that should be symbol enough for you. If it is not, you are not the man I thought you were."

[Glenn]

"My thanks for the tea. As such things go, it was quite excellent." Still, cucumbers? Really? That was one good thing about Calomel. He didn't understand the little sandwiches either. Oh, he OFFERED them, but it was terribly awkward. There was little terribly awkward about the once-mapmaker now, though. What a LOVELY end to this conversation. No, Lord Kostroma, Marquis of Alais (whatever the devil THAT meant), Glenn Burnie was not about to be your friend. One hopes you had not been momentarily confused.

Honor. Honor got you killed in Myrken Wood. Honor got your family killed. Honor got your friends killed. And nine times out of ten? Honor meant that you were the one killing them all, yourself last. Stay, Constantine. Stay in Myrken. Enjoy your regal estate. Flaunt your authority. Stand by your honor. Serve your Bright.

In six months time, it won't be Glenn Burnie's character you'll be worried about.

For now though, as you storm off, britches in a tangle, hair on your back standing in flabbergasted consternation, at least you'll have the young Governor's pleasant smile to warm your way.

[channe]

A lot can happen in six months' time; that is quite true. Kostroma leaves with a singular understanding of Glenn Burnie; at once, he might have been a good man. But good men do not make good rulers, he knows, and Myrken will prosper in all the ways that matter through Burnie's less-then-aboveboard ways. Constantine Kostroma does not need a friend; he needs someone that will repel Thessilane, someone that will keep the tax agreements, and someone that will help the territory prosper. That, at least, was agreed at the meeting.

Glenn Burnie is obviously that man -- to a point. Burnie's naked ambition troubles Kostroma as he pushes open the door to Kelsaen House.

Something else bothers him as the butlers help him off with his coat and gloves. It tickles at the back of his brain -- the thought that what the Kaczmarek woman said is true, that Burnie is a dangerous man for a far more awful reason, and that a return to Razasan will not be soon because of it.

There is yet quite a bit to do in Myrken Wood; Glenn Burnie will not be Constantine Kostroma's only appointment.

Back inside Kelsaen House, he lights a candle, writes the honorable-discharge letter for Agnieszka Kaczmarek and applies his sigil with hot wax. At the bottom, he writes --

Never forget what you are.

"Azden," he says, handing the letter to his man. "Take this to the Eastern barracks; give it to Captain Kaczmarek. And then get back here -- we have a lot to do."

"A lot to do, sir?"

Kostroma eyes him. "We have a country to retake."