Free Kingdoms of the Night (The Far Kingdoms) by Allan Cole & Chris Bunch

glory and making me wonder if perhaps I wasn’t being too harsh and perhaps he did have the necessary skills of diplomacy, subtlety and common sense the Antero empire must have to survive and continue its growth.
    Jeypur was ruled by a council whose members and even size varied depending on which factions had the greatest power. This particular time a new group had gained the palace and announced that no longer should Jeypur exist as the catspaw of other golden-ribbed cities, that it deserved its place in the sun.
    They were referring to Orissa. They meant to acquire this glory and wealth by placing a fifteen percent surtax on all caravans, cargoes and ships entering, being purchased and leaving the city, which meant a trade item could have its price nearly doubled — fifteen percent when it entered the city, fifteen percent when it was bought by an outside merchant and stored for sale or transshipment and a third fifteen percent when it left Jeypur for its final market. At the time, about twenty percent or more of all western traffic including many items brought from the far-away islands of Konya passed through Jeypur.
    That was intolerable to the merchants of Orissa, particularly since we thought with some justification the rulers of Jeypur differed from the pirates of the Narrow Seas only because they robbed by decree, not dagger. There were angry meetings with our Magistrates and a determination that something must be done and done immediately.
    Some of my hotter-headed colleagues wanted to fit out an expedition. I advised a diplomatic mission, but one that should have a few soldiers attached just to make sure Jeypur understood Orissa had more than words in her arsenal.
    My idea was seized on and blown up like a pig’s bladder at slaughtering-season. Not only should there be soldiers but a soldier should be in charge. I argued, but unsuccessfully, so I retreated gracefully and began thinking of various members of our army known for their tact and charm. While I thought, Cligus and his supporters acted. He was named to head the mission, and elected by acclaim. There was nothing I could’ve said to change it. How could I object to an Antero, least of all my son?
    So off they sailed and I grimly wrote letters to my various factors in lands around Jeypur, advising them a small, silly but trade-ruining war was likely in the offing. I knew Cligus would confront the council, insult them liberally, dare them to stand against the might of Orissa and then, most likely, kick over one or two statues of their favorite gods as an afterthought on the way out.
    To my astonishment, none of that happened. Admittedly, luck helped him, but luck is often an excuse for failure by those unblessed. Before the delegation had been in the city more than a week, three of the ruling council’s members fell ill and died. Their replacements listened to reason, which of course included some private enrichment and the proposed tariff vanished like smoke wisping from a temple censer.
    Cligus, when he returned, was granted a special day of feasting and his name was read aloud in the Great Temple at the end of the year when the priests told the gods which Orissans were especially suitable for blessing.
    Yes, I remembered well.
    “When we arrived in Jeypur,” Kele went on, “th’ presence of an Antero was cause for the criers to bellow their lungs out. It mattered not to either Hermias or myself other than th’ higher prices we’d have t’ pay for th’ caravan animals climb, since where Hermias’d be tradin’ far north was already known and I’d pass th’ time waitin’ for him to return rechartin’ those demon-blasted sand islands to the west of the city, where I blessed near wrecked a few years gone.
    “We took quarters, unloaded our trading cargo from my ship and started buyin’ all of the gods-blest million-and-one things for Hermias’ journey.
    “On the third day, quite late, as I was havin’ a final tod with Hermias in his