"I will oblige him momentarily. Larth, I leave you in charge. Galt, you come with me, in case we need to discuss business." The other overmen nodded; Garth took a step toward the mansion, but was halted by Herrenmer's hand raised in restraint.
"Wait a minute; I was told to bring you, not this other monster."
"But Galt is the business manager for our party. Should we need to discuss exact terms I will want his advice."
"If it will ease your mind, Captain, I will promise not to speak unless spoken to." Galt's voice was honeysmooth.
Herrenmer looked from one hideous face to the other, from Garth's crimson eyes to Galt's golden ones, and at last shrugged and led the way across the square.
The Baron's audience chamber was much as Garth remembered it, a fairly spacious room hung with old tapestries, with three small windows high in the northern wall behind the Baron's seat providing the only light. The Baron's seat was a simple oaken chair, and the Baron himself sat slouching in it, a small, slender man wearing a richly embroidered scarlet robe, with a circlet of gold on his brow. He fingered his thin black beard for a moment, then spoke.
"So it's true; you have returned."
This being self-evident, no reply seemed necessary, but Garth did not care to antagonize the Baron further with insolent silence; he replied simply, "Yes."
"I had not thought you would have had the gall to do so, despite your boast to that scum Saram, yet here you are. You have even brought others of your filthy race."
"We have come on a peaceful trading mission."
"So I am told. Are you aware that you are under sentence of death here, on charges of trespass, espionage, and crimes against the state? And that all your stinking species are enemy aliens?"
"I was aware that you were not eager to have us here. I hope to convince you that it would be to your advantage to welcome us."
"And how do you plan to do that?"
"In two stages: firstly, I will convince you that a regular trade between Skelleth and the Northern Waste will be very much in your own interests; and secondly, that killing me or otherwise thwarting me would make that trade impossible."
"Very well, then, I will listen. Why should I allow you monsters to trade on my lands?"
"Because we have much gold, from hidden mines in the northern mountains, with which to pay for what we want. Surely, much of this gold will find its way to you, in the form of taxes and tariffs. You told me once that you were not happy with your inheritance and hoped to improve your lot by war and plunder; would it not be equally satisfying to make yourself rich by peaceful means? Or even if it is the blood and glory of war you seek, will not our gold help to finance such an ambition? The terms of our former agreement, which you apparently feel I violated but which I feel I merely interpreted differently from yourself, included a statement that all overmen crossing your lands would pay what tribute you might rightfully demand; we will honor that, so long as such tribute does not make our trade prohibitively expensive. Surely you cannot refuse such an opportunity!"
"Dare not tell me what I can or cannot refuse, overman! Still, you make it sound very tempting. If your gold is as plentiful as you imply, I could indeed find uses for it." The Baron mused for a moment and then went on, "But then, to your second point, your own life; why should I not accept trade arrangements with your people, but still put you to death? I could easily demand your life as the necessary tribute; would not overmen give up a single life for a new trade route?"
"Perhaps they would under certain circumstances, but they will not give up my life, for I am the hereditary Prince of Ordunin, and the life of a reigning prince is not within your rights to demand." Garth was relying on the Baron's ignorance of the culture of the overmen of the Northern Waste in this, for in fact the title he claimed, though genuine, was strictly a ceremonial honor with no real significance beyond the privilege of speaking first in the City Council; a privilege it was customary to waive.
There was a moment of silence as the Baron considered this. Then he shifted his gaze to Galt and demanded, "You! Who are you?"
"I am Galt, my lord, a trader out of Ordunin."
"And who is this?" He pointed at Garth.
"That is Garth, Prince of Ordunin, a lord of the Overmen of the Northern Waste." Galt spoke casually, his pale blue cloak draped across one arm, his wide-brimmed hat shading his yellow eyes, looking completely at ease and unconcerned. Long years of experience had taught him that such a pose was most desirable in almost every sort of dealings with humans, be it trade, diplomacy, or less formal activities.
"You will swear to that?"
Galt blinked, and smiled a lipless smile. "If you wish."
"I do."
"I swear by my head that this overman is Garth, hereditary Prince of Ordunin, son of Karth and Tarith, known to me as such for many years and so recognized by all my people."
"There were more of you, were there not?"
"Yes."
"Will they so swear?"
"Undoubtedly. Larth is Garth's double-cousin, and Tand has known him since childhood."
The Baron turned back to Garth. "Why did you not let me know this before, that I might have treated you as your rank deserved?"
"Why should I tempt you with a prince's ransom?"
"Are you not doing so now?"
"No, for I am not alone this time, and furthermore my people are now aware that Skelleth is no longer the mighty fortress that repelled our ancestors' attacks. Even should you take all four of us captive, there would be no ransom but fire and sword. As you surely realize, paying out ransoms sets a bad precedent."
The Baron scowled and slumped back in his chair. After a thoughtful pause he said, "It seems that you have the better of me in this matter; to indulge my whims would be far too costly, so I must let you live and go free. However, if you are in truth the reigning Prince of Ordunin, then there are other demands I may make. You seek for your people the free use of roads and rights of way that I happen to have proprietary rights upon. Our two nations are technically still at war, however, so that I cannot under ordinary circumstances grant such permissions as you seek without being untrue to my own oaths as vassal to the High King at Kholis; this is true though it would obviously be of great advantage to me personally and to my realm, and though our war has been unfought these three hundred years. Had you considered this?"
"Not in detail," Garth replied; he hesitated, and then continued, "I am not fully conversant with the laws of Eramma and I assumed that reasonable beings such as ourselves could find some way around such an obstacle."
"And I think we shall, Garth, I think we shall." The Baron grinned. "There are conditions under which I may make a separate peace, without the intervention of the High King; specifically, I can accept your surrender and your oath of fealty to me as a vassal prince."
"What?" Garth's reply was startled from him.
"Yes. You see, that would finish off the war very neatly, and remove any obstacles it might create. Under the terms of my own commitment to the High King I cannot surrender myself to you unless defeated in battle, but there are no such constraints upon you. Were you my vassal and loyal servant, our two peoples would no longer be at war." The grin widened. "Furthermore, as my vassal, your underlings would of course have full access, free of tariff, to all my lands. They would of course be required to pay the customary taxes, and tolls for the use of some highways, but only at the same rates as my human subjects. In short, your goal of establishing open trade would be achieved."