The Governor’s Announcement

Noah had been unsurprised to see they were seated at the table to the right of the Governor himself, with Captain Amaruq positioned closest to the old man. A pair of blue-garbed Agassian soldiers, well-festooned with medals, sat beside him. Still, the tables had been arranged to be close enough that they could, with minimal effort, talk to the quartet across from them as easily as they converse with the Governor and his tablemates.

To Noah’s right sat another soldier, a woman with olive skin and bright green eyes, a combination that was for whatever reason not uncommon with the Agassians. Next to her was a civilian woman, and the table directly across held another woman in military uniform, with the younger military man and a pair of prosperous merchants.

“Monsieur,” a voice all but whispered in his ear as a servant expertly placed three small plates in front of him. The rest of the diners were similarly being served what must have been the first course as bread dishes and soups were common.

Noah thought the food in front of him looked wonderful, but he couldn’t help but realize that no one bothered to ask him what he wanted, while the servants had quiet conversations with the other guests and varied the offerings.

“Captain,” the older officer, her hair short but still showing a good deal of grey, nodded at Captain Amaruq, “by now everyone has read the report you gave about the attack on the river, those that were not there when you spoke on it yourself.” Her accent was thicker than most Noah was used to hearing, the Agassians tended to stick to their language, dismissing the common Lingua of the continent as uncouth.

Amaruq took a small sip of a crystal wineglass before placing it down after a moment and saying, “Yes.” She did not quite make it a question, choosing to give the woman a blandly expectant look.

“A full warband? Truly, Nauja?” The second officer, sitting on the other side of the governor, had longer hair and looked to be in her third decade, so about the same age as Captain Amaruq. She was quite attractive, with an icy blue-eyed stare to go with her carefully braided blonde hair.

“Yes, truly, Marie-Jeanne.”

The slight tone the Captain had given when saying the other woman’s name made Noah realize that she had used her first name in kind instead of her rank.

Also, did that mean that Captain Amaruq’s given name was Nauja? It was almost funny to the man to realize that he had sailed on her crew for 18 days (and spent one night of vigorous and enjoyable passion with her) and had not known her first name.

If the second officer - and Noah would assume she was a subordinate to the one on the other side of the old man by her slightly less full board of ribbons and being a decade younger - noticed the carefully neutral tone from Amaruq she gave no indication. Half the diners were silent now, openly listening.

“I was not there for the debrief but I scanned the report earlier, to be honest, I found it hard to believe. But you have a reputation for honnêteté, amongst your fellows on the river.”

A few mutters broke out from the merchants and riverboat captains in attendance at the clear implication that they might not be considered worthy of even that grudging level of basic respect from the woman, who was high up in the command chain for the Agassians.

The governor sat, his eyes sharp and mouth set in a thin line. To his side, the more senior woman in blue cleared her throat and said, “I was there and heard the full tale. There is no doubt in my mind, and besides the galley will be back in a matter of days. Amaruq fought the lizards as hard as anyone else here, those of us old enough to have served, anyway. Certainly, she knows what she is talking about.”

With a sudden flush, the blonde woman opened her mouth but stilled at a tiny gesture from the man between them. His voice was raspy, but loud and carried. “Let us not get distracted, this is a meal between partners to affirm our mutually beneficial trade, and to say that the Duchy stands ready to ensure the safety of that trade in the Northlands.”

Another murmur, and one of the businesswomen further down loudly asked, “The Northlands are open Monsieur! We trust that the Duchy does not forget that no one owns the empty lands.”

The Governor waved a casual hand, “Of course, we seek only to protect that openness from encroachment, and only along the river. From scattered Lizardkin or… whomever.”

Noah could feel half the crowd’s muted unhappiness with that airy agreement, even as all the Agassian soldiers and bureaucrats in attendance sat impassively. The former steward took a sip of flavoured water and thought that he would bet all his generous salary on the Duchy of Agassiz quickly stretching out a more direct and firm level of “security” along the river. And that the shipping companies and free merchants in Anglet would be unable to do anything about it other than mutter and fret amongst themselves about how far the Duchess wanted to expand.

He couldn't be certain, but he felt as if the entire evening - the official banquet, the guests, the expense of it all, - had been done simply so the Governor could inform the merchants and captains that the Duchy would be moving down the river towards Anglet. The presence of the Lizardkin was a very good rationale for the move, but for it to be announced not even a full day after news reached Currielle strongly hinted that it had been planned already, if only as a contingency.

In the momentary silence that followed, one of the women in the center of the tables loudly said, “Oh! I almost forgot in all the excitement, but I received a letter from Maranelli just yesterday, apparently the rumours are true: the Conglomerata has splintered, and the houses are choosing sides.”

The conversation shifted to a much less potentially fractious topic as a handful of voices shared predictions for the news, and to Noah it sounded like more of a corporate struggle than a political or martial clash… although certainly the former did not preclude the latter in this world.

“You are named ‘Noah’, correct?” The younger male soldier leaned forward, his gaze on the steward. “Yes, very pleased to meet you, I am Elio Rohan, Lieutenantes.”

“Hello, Lieutenant Rohan,” the man was about Noah’s age, and he seemed pleased to talk to a new face, presumably another man was a bit of a novelty.

“If you are in the town for longer, we should meet for a meal, there are a few men around and we enjoy having some small sort of brotherhood here, once a week several of us will gather at the-“

“Yes yes, Rohan,” a woman’s louder voice overrode him, and he shot a quick look to the speaker before shutting his mouth firmly and looking down submissively. The blonde officer at the head table all but rolled her eyes as she theatrically sighed, “You and your little roosters can cluck and gossip and get odd political ‘ideas’ from wandering old men with poor hygiene and foolish speeches.”

A few people chuckled as the lieutenant blushed, but the woman ignored him and stared at Noah. “You would be far wiser, I think, to find a good, strong woman and not worry about silly politics. A handsome boy need not be concerned about such things!”

Noah did not know how to reply to that, but in a mild but clear voice Captain Amaruq broke in, saying, “Noah, this is Marie-Jeanne Berthier, a ‘Capitaines’ of the Agassian Army. She is, nominally, second in command of the garrison?”

The older officer nodded, far more interested in the food on her plate than the conversation, while Captain Berthier smirked at the interruption. Before she could continue talking to Noah, Amaruq continued some introductions. The older woman was a major (a ‘Chef d'escadrons’ as Amaruq put it in a credible Agassian accent) named Edith Montmorency and the overall commander of the armed forces in the region. One of the women to his right was a river captain called Spilhaus of the Lizard’s Bane, and the closest merchants were Lady Stringfell and Sankt Loewner.

Noah nodded and said hello to everyone who was pointed out to him, and just when he was beginning to worry there would be a test of some kind at the end of the meal he realized that Captain Amaruq was drawing out the introductions while Captain Berthier impatiently waited to continue talking to him.

By the time Amaruq was done, some of the merchants were chatting about trade and Major Montmorency - finally satisfied with the meal she had wolfed down - started asking specific questions about the battle against the Lizardkin and Berthier had to lean back with some ill grace, the chance to talk to Noah passed.

The meal progressed, another three courses being served and Noah enjoyed much of it. The food was, indeed, excellent and while he was not a wine person he had to admit the drink was just as good. During a rare lull in the talk of battles and trade and so on he was able to talk to Lieutenant Rohan, and accept his invitation to a supper in town with some of the other younger men. This cheered up the man, and Noah decided to make sure he stayed in the port long enough to make good on it.

As the meal ended Noah sat back, quite full.

“Monsieur?” A voice at his elbow, one of the efficient and dapper servants in her black and white suit. She held a tray with a few desserts, and Noah debated passing until he saw a small cake-like confection and pointed to it with a questioning look.

“Hazelnut crème fraîche meringues, with shavings of lemon, the chef's spécialité. She would be very happy for you to try it.”

“Well, I can’t say no to that,” he smiled, and it was placed in front of him. The dessert was barely four forkfuls, but each was an explosion of taste as rich as the Duchess.

Captain Amaruq was smiling at him, and he gestured at his plate and exclaimed, “You have to try this!” He carefully gathered the last bite on his fork and held it up to her, only belatedly noticing the slightly surprised look on the woman’s face. Too familiar? Was he committing some sort of terrible breach of decorum or table manners?

But Amaruq simply opened her mouth and ate the meringue, making a pleased sound and gesturing her approval at the sweetness. She did have a slight blush as the river captain Spilhaus gave a hearty laugh down the table, and Noah knew it was aimed at them but it didn’t seem ill-meant.

The sneer he saw from the blonde Agassian army Captain at the head table as she stared at him was certainly not as genial, but he chose to ignore that as best he could.

Guests were now rising, and the string quartet subtly increased the volume of the background music as people wandered over to the couches and open space of the other half of the large room.

“Well Noah, I hope you enjoyed the meal,” his captain nodded. “Let’s go… mingle.” She almost hid her grimace as she said it, and he had to laugh.

“So far, it’s been a wonderful night,” he said sincerely.

“I am happy to hear you are enjoying yourself, let’s hope the rest is as entertaining. And no one got stabbed, yet, so that’s a good sign no one is taking the political and commercial squabbling as a personal attack on her honour. Not even a punch thrown; people will say that Currielle is getting downright civilized.” Her mouth quirked as she took his arm and led him away from the tables.

The steward was almost entirely certain she was joking. Pretty certain, at least.