Heyna's Tale - Chapter Three
The Great Council
There was to be no rescue party. That isn't the Quetzalcoatl way. The Quetz are diplomats and merchants, not fighters. They spend their time with more intellectual pursuits, art, literature, poetry, music, commerce, and above all diplomacy. Diplomacy, because skill in that art made room for all the others. Even the Ryujin and Dreki rarely made war on the weaker race. The late unpleasantness, as the Quetz would term it, was an aberration, and a cause of wonderment.
The Quetz’s artistic products are luxuries sought after around the world. That has been their leverage. You may envy us our high art, but kill us, and you lose that forever. Of course, the Quetz are not completely defenseless. They have a small army (more of a constabulary, really) armed with sonic amplifiers that could shatter the eardrums of attackers. They also have a small mercenary force of Janizaree leased from the Gryphons. The Janizaree are fierce defenders, but they cannot be everywhere at once. The Quetz are masters at outsourcing risk, hiring contractors to do the dangerous and dirty work. And the Quetz consider defense to be the dirtiest.
So, diplomacy is the Quetz primary strategy, but all strategies fail at times. Moral suasion, negotiation, embargo, boycott, bribery, and alliance were their tactics, and they usually worked. What had failed this time? Heyna couldn’t imagine.
A large raiding force of Ryujin had rushed the city while the Janizaree were patrolling another part of the coast where there had been some minor raiding. A diversion, no doubt. Several hundred dragons, led by Prince Hazu himself, set fire to parts of the city. They raided the museums, the Erda quarter, the Chick Arbor, and the Treasury. It was a well-planned attack, and if the Quetz were any other race, it would mean war. But the Quetzalcoatl have no means or desire for making war.
Heyna waited and fumed outside the council chamber. She could hear the low drone and occasional squawk from the councilors as they deliberated. She found herself trying to will them into action. They talked and argued around the issue without driving to the heart. They tried to reach consensus which was not always possible and took forever. Different regions and their councilors had different goals and interests to defend. Only Paititi had been raided, so not all the councilors felt common cause with the capital.
How short sighted! If Paititi could be raided, so could any of the other provinces. Now was the time to pull together, even Heyna could see that. Why couldn’t they? What’s the point of the council if not to provide mutual support and defense?
She fantasized that they would hire a fleet of Gryphon steam cutters, armed with cannon and stuffed to the gunwales with Janizaree in their indestructible armor. They would comb the ocean, sinking any Ryujin shuuikan boats that they found and forcing Hazu to capitulate.
She wanted to hurt the sea snakes for what they had done to her family, to Jaz and Xico. Surely, the Quetz would not allow this incredible insult to stand. They had to get their people back, her people back, and strike a blow against this injustice. “Prince,” Hazu, ha! Just a slimy, murderous, foul… she ran out of ways to curse him.
How to get at him in his underwater city? Did the Gryphon even have the under water ships that could reach them? Could they threaten to drop depth charges and crack the domes? No. They wouldn’t do that. Heyna didn’t think that even she in her rage would have the stomach to kill so many innocent civilians.
Finally, the doors to the Hall of the Great Council slid open.
*
“You're sending a diplomatic delegation?” Heyna was furious. The full council was perched in a semicircle before her. Seven councilors stared down at her. Their plumage was adorned with delicate blackwood jewelry on wingtips and tails. The finest and lightest filigree caps denoted their station and framed their beaks, decorations designed by Quetz, but shaped and carved by Erda claws.
Mr. Plesh had a bandaged leg and a broken foot and needed a brace to sit his perch. Heyna glared at them. They were silent so long that her rage boiled over into impertinence.
"Well?" she demanded. The councilors puffed and squirmed on their perches.
“Director,” said a counselor to Mrs. Plesh's left. “Why do you put up with such impudence from a servant?” He sneered as he looked at Heyna.
“Patience, Councilor Garsh,” Mrs. Plesh said. “We have all suffered indignities.” She turned to Heyna. “I am sorry for your loss dear, but it is our way. Diplomacy is always the first option.”
“But they took my brother. They took my… your Xico! We have to do something. I… have to do something. I can't just sit here and wait. I won't!” What is that smell? Heyna couldn't place it at first, acrid and bitter. Fear! The Quetz council was afraid. Heyna was afraid too, and with that realization a wave of despair washed over her.
Mrs. Plesh nodded to the guards who moved to Heyna’s side, and began to guide her out.
“No!” she said. Her fur bristled in anger and she turned back to the council. “Why!” she yelled. “Why do we have to be the slaves!” The council stared at her in alarm and consternation. “Why the Erda?” she demanded.
Mrs. Plesh puffed and said indignantly, “You are not a slave, Heyna! How could you say such a thing?” All the righteousness of adolescence rose up in her and she glared at the council who were preening, and fluttering, and puffing.
“We are stronger than Quetz, but you treat us as servants. We are smarter than dragons, but they make us slaves. Only the Gryphon treat us as equals! Why?”
The council was silent for a moment, but continued to flutter nervously. The councilor called Garsh glared at her with first one eye then the other turning his head from side to side.
“You dare!” he shouted. Other councilors grumbled and fussed, but Mr. Plesh whistled sharply, which was a signal for silence, and Mrs. Plesh spoke gently.
“Your family are more than servants. Xico is your friend, but she is our daughter. We bleed for your loss and the losses of all in this raid. However, diplomacy first is our way.”
“I want to go with the delegation.” Heyna blurted. The council puffed and squawked some more. “I'll go as a servant,” Heyna said quickly. “I'll keep my mouth shut, but I can't… do… nothing.” The council settled and looked at Mrs. Plesh, who looked at Heyna. She was silent for a long time. Then she spoke.
“The Council will take your request under advisement.”
Heyna began to protest, but Doctor Juss was suddenly at her side again, whispering.
“That's the best your going to get, Heyna. Be silent. The Council never makes a decision hastily. Let's go."
Heyna looked up at the lofty ceiling where Erda and Quetz crews were already at work repairing the damage from the raid.
"Okay," she said and let Doctor Juss lead her to the door. But in her mind she was thinking, No! Nobody was going to stop her from getting her brother and Xico back.
Back in the Care Arbor, Heyna sat and watched the doctors flutter from bed to bed, tending the wounded. Some had claw and projectile wounds. Some had feathers completely burned away. Heyna wrinkled her nose at the stink of destruction and pain, but she marked every smell and seared it into her memory. Someone would pay for this.
They said that Jaz was hurt. Who was tending his wounds? Mama, Papa! Dead. Tears stung her eyes and flowed freely, until her fur was soaked. She was so tired. The hammock felt good, but she fought against her fatigue. She wanted her ager to burn and keep burning to fuel her determination.
She could see her parent's faces. Papa, always joking, took everything lightly. Her mother was no-nonsense. Heyna, she would say, you have to learn to look after yourself, I'm not always going to be here… Heyna cried more at the thought, but suddenly she saw her mother through her tears. She was fierce. She said, “No more tears, Heyna! Time for work. You've got to save Jaz. Heyna! Do you hear me Heyna?” She wiped her eyes, and Doctor Juss was perched in front of her. She had been sleeping.
“Heyna! Get up. The Council wants you.”
The council was arrayed as before, on their perches, looking down their beaks at Heyna. Heyna stood as tall as her stubby legs and wide tail would let her. Gryphon Janizaree had taken up positions at the doors and managed to stand as still as statues while giving the impression of acute vigilance.
Heyna felt reassured by their presence, arrayed as they were in the magnificent armor of their rank. Their armor gleamed and their weapons smelled of honing oil. That armor was a top-secret technology that required Erda skill and Gryphon strength to forge. Erda of the Fluss clan are trained from an early age to work the ore in furnaces provided by Gryphon smiths. Heyna had sort of learned the process of forging in school. There was more to it that Heyna, couldn't remember. She had never paid much attention in class. There was some secret ingredient, some mystery that her teacher had been very coy about.
“The Council has decided,” Mr. Plesh began.
“You have decided,” Councilor Garsh interjected.
“We have decided,” said Mrs. Plesh, pointedly. “We are still a democracy and majority still rules, Councilor Garsh.”
“So much for consensus government!” said Garsh.
“Indeed, so much for consensus, which as you know, is not always possible to achieve. Thank you for your input Councilor Garsh.” Garsh settled on his perch with a sour expression, but didn't interrupt again.
“The Council has decided,” said Mr. Plesh with a sidelong glance at Garsh, “that Heyna may accompany the diplomatic mission as a servant. Hazardous duty pay and benefits to be arranged in the usual manner. I assume that is to your satisfaction, and that you agree to our conditions of behavior, Heyna?”
“Yes, thank you!” Heyna said, relieved. “My thanks to the council.” She gave a little bow with a glance at Garsh. She hoped he wouldn't be going. She didn't think that a diplomatic mission would benefit much from such a sourpuss.
“Now to other business,” Mr. Plesh said, and winced in pain. Heyna had know him all her life. He was like a second father, patient, kind, and generous. She was sad to see him like this, so wounded. How many others? The thought rekindled her rage. Diplomacy, ha! But she was determined to go along and give it a try. Maybe there was something to it.
Ushers appeared beside Heyna and led her from the chamber.