Not to slow down when reaching the door.
To pass between the guards as naturally as possible.
He was not at fault.
He had done nothing wrong.
He was not being called to order.
He was being respectfully asked by the Avalae Chief Guard to grant him a few moments of his precious time to clarify a possible international diplomatic incident as a first-hand witness.
Copal himself had written enough official documents to decrypt.
Miaro Ronti was not happy at all.
And he couldn't say so.
He had been at his post long enough to take precautionary measures with a Noble. Especially a Noble who seemed to be favoured by the Karin Aniro.
Even if he had been able to look down on the said Noble when he was still an obscure provincial official.
Copal entered the office with all the confidence he could muster.
The interview beginning was no surprise.
Miaro Ronti held a very experienced combination of a field soldier's efficiency and courtly manners.
And he wanted to know the full context to better understand the situation.
Copal had to start his story at the Hovel’s vortex.
Where the Trykeri had brought him the two mektoubs loaded with the beer he had ordered.
Where part of the escort from Fairhaven had wanted to continue to Avalae.
In flagrant contradiction with the agreement he and Commander Jazzy had made.
But the Tryker had no authority over non-citizens.
Nor had Copal.
And so it had been the disorganised journey to Avalae through the Hovel, Fleeting Garden and the south of the Majestic Garden.
Copal had felt more often than not that he was not in control of anything.
He was holding on as best he could to a leaf carried by the current.
Or rather near the mektoubs.
With enthusiastic homins who ran headlong. Slaughtering the ferocious beasts in their path.
Not caring what was going on behind them.
Nor of any instructions.
An undisciplined and inconsistent horde.
The worst moment had been when Serae Liosta had fallen. The victim of crossfire in an altercation with a patrol.
But the shipment had reached Avalae safely.
Copal did not dwell on his difficulties.
Nor on his growing fatigue and frustration as they went along.
Not even about the purple-haired Zorai who was throwing out perfidious innuendos worthy of the worst gossips in the Court.
He preferred to quickly explain the route taken. The rare difficulties encountered.
And above all the result obtained.
That was all that mattered.
Even if Miaro Ronti was probably no more fooled than his father.
Finally the beer barrels had been stored at his home with the diligent help of the Alkiane Order.
And then the special barrel had to be taken to Yrkanis.
From then on, the Chief Guard was much more attentive.
And reproachful.
He understood that the Filira Copal had preferred to keep the matter secret until Yrkanis.
And that he had preferred to calm the most excited members of the escort himself.
And even that he had allowed them to accompany him to the capital city.
But really, with all due respect:
"You should have called the Avalae Guard when that Tryker attacked you, Filira. To attack a Karan representative is to attack the Kingdom. We cannot tolerate this kind of behavior."
Copal forced himself to smile.
"Normally I would have said the same as you, Ser. But the important thing was not my fate. The important thing was the mission the Karan had given to me. The whole group would have killed each other on the spot if I had responded with weapons. And the prisoner might have had a chance to escape."
Copal paused.
He had discovered the power of silence by listening to real diplomats. Filira Salazar. Ser Nilstilar.
He tried to apply their lessons.
He continued.
"But they understood that nothing would make me change my mind."
Which was true. To his great surprise.
Copal had never imagined himself as a leader of homins. And events had largely proved him right.
But he had discovered that he was really ready to do anything to accomplish his duty.
And also that he didn't like to take orders from a bunch of uncultured and overexcited kamists. But the Chief Guard didn't need to know that.
What Miaro Ronti didn't need to know either was the real reason why he hadn't fought back.
The Tryker who had attacked him knew how to fight. She really did. And he didn't.
Despite all his efforts.
He wasn't sticking his sword in his foot. And he could handle himself against animals without intelligence.
But he was really no match for her in this kind of situation.
Fortunately, she had shot him quickly.
He hadn't had time to be too ridiculous.
And he had managed to turn the situation to his advantage afterwards.
The Chief Guard was not completely convinced.
But he knew a fight he could not win.
He thanked his host courteously and walked him to the door.
Not without commenting at the last moment.
"Who would have thought that protecting a load of beer would interest so many homins. If I may say so, Filira. Next time you'd better choose another pretext if you want to be discreet."
And Copal found himself outside in the Avalae night.
He held back an unwelcome curse.
There would be no next time. Not if he could avoid it.
Grace be to Jena. He was an ambassador to the Theocracy. Not the Federation.
He hurried to his wife.
To pass between the guards as naturally as possible.
He was not at fault.
He had done nothing wrong.
He was not being called to order.
He was being respectfully asked by the Avalae Chief Guard to grant him a few moments of his precious time to clarify a possible international diplomatic incident as a first-hand witness.
Copal himself had written enough official documents to decrypt.
Miaro Ronti was not happy at all.
And he couldn't say so.
He had been at his post long enough to take precautionary measures with a Noble. Especially a Noble who seemed to be favoured by the Karin Aniro.
Even if he had been able to look down on the said Noble when he was still an obscure provincial official.
Copal entered the office with all the confidence he could muster.
The interview beginning was no surprise.
Miaro Ronti held a very experienced combination of a field soldier's efficiency and courtly manners.
And he wanted to know the full context to better understand the situation.
Copal had to start his story at the Hovel’s vortex.
Where the Trykeri had brought him the two mektoubs loaded with the beer he had ordered.
Where part of the escort from Fairhaven had wanted to continue to Avalae.
In flagrant contradiction with the agreement he and Commander Jazzy had made.
But the Tryker had no authority over non-citizens.
Nor had Copal.
And so it had been the disorganised journey to Avalae through the Hovel, Fleeting Garden and the south of the Majestic Garden.
Copal had felt more often than not that he was not in control of anything.
He was holding on as best he could to a leaf carried by the current.
Or rather near the mektoubs.
With enthusiastic homins who ran headlong. Slaughtering the ferocious beasts in their path.
Not caring what was going on behind them.
Nor of any instructions.
An undisciplined and inconsistent horde.
The worst moment had been when Serae Liosta had fallen. The victim of crossfire in an altercation with a patrol.
But the shipment had reached Avalae safely.
Copal did not dwell on his difficulties.
Nor on his growing fatigue and frustration as they went along.
Not even about the purple-haired Zorai who was throwing out perfidious innuendos worthy of the worst gossips in the Court.
He preferred to quickly explain the route taken. The rare difficulties encountered.
And above all the result obtained.
That was all that mattered.
Even if Miaro Ronti was probably no more fooled than his father.
Finally the beer barrels had been stored at his home with the diligent help of the Alkiane Order.
And then the special barrel had to be taken to Yrkanis.
From then on, the Chief Guard was much more attentive.
And reproachful.
He understood that the Filira Copal had preferred to keep the matter secret until Yrkanis.
And that he had preferred to calm the most excited members of the escort himself.
And even that he had allowed them to accompany him to the capital city.
But really, with all due respect:
"You should have called the Avalae Guard when that Tryker attacked you, Filira. To attack a Karan representative is to attack the Kingdom. We cannot tolerate this kind of behavior."
Copal forced himself to smile.
"Normally I would have said the same as you, Ser. But the important thing was not my fate. The important thing was the mission the Karan had given to me. The whole group would have killed each other on the spot if I had responded with weapons. And the prisoner might have had a chance to escape."
Copal paused.
He had discovered the power of silence by listening to real diplomats. Filira Salazar. Ser Nilstilar.
He tried to apply their lessons.
He continued.
"But they understood that nothing would make me change my mind."
Which was true. To his great surprise.
Copal had never imagined himself as a leader of homins. And events had largely proved him right.
But he had discovered that he was really ready to do anything to accomplish his duty.
And also that he didn't like to take orders from a bunch of uncultured and overexcited kamists. But the Chief Guard didn't need to know that.
What Miaro Ronti didn't need to know either was the real reason why he hadn't fought back.
The Tryker who had attacked him knew how to fight. She really did. And he didn't.
Despite all his efforts.
He wasn't sticking his sword in his foot. And he could handle himself against animals without intelligence.
But he was really no match for her in this kind of situation.
Fortunately, she had shot him quickly.
He hadn't had time to be too ridiculous.
And he had managed to turn the situation to his advantage afterwards.
The Chief Guard was not completely convinced.
But he knew a fight he could not win.
He thanked his host courteously and walked him to the door.
Not without commenting at the last moment.
"Who would have thought that protecting a load of beer would interest so many homins. If I may say so, Filira. Next time you'd better choose another pretext if you want to be discreet."
And Copal found himself outside in the Avalae night.
He held back an unwelcome curse.
There would be no next time. Not if he could avoid it.
Grace be to Jena. He was an ambassador to the Theocracy. Not the Federation.
He hurried to his wife.