“Winner takes all. It’s how the world goes.” - Xaliburnus the Conqueror, First Emperor of the Elmaiya Empire.

Marquis Viktor Esvant of Podovniy was far from his best shape from when he was in his prime, to say the least. He had put on some weight in his middle age, and his once-toned body had mostly softened and given way to some flabs of fat, as was common for people his age. His broken leg did nothing to help his predicament either, and he was glad that Simeon was at least allowed to accompany him to the meeting, even if mostly as a mobility aid of sorts.

Deities knew that the Marquis would never have been able to make it to the meeting room unaided.

Not that the Levainians would have stopped him or anything, just that in his exhausted, aching, unfit state, he doubted that he would have been able to walk all the way to the meeting room with crutches. At least Simeon helped support him bodily, which lightened his burden somewhat.

The sight of the people inside the meeting room was not an unexpected one to the Marquis. He had fully expected the young Chairwoman of Levain to take charge for her side, but he couldn’t help the frown that formed on his lips when he noticed that the woman had brought several old, wily councilors with her. Viktor had hoped to be able to exploit the young woman’s clear inexperience with politics to cut his losses as much as he could, but with those wily veterans around, chances of that happening were low.

That the Caroman Marshals – famed individuals, both – were present was expected as well, as there was no Caroman delegation present in Levain. As such the Marshals had to deal with the negotiations on behalf of their Republic, as the highest ranked representatives present. The rather small, middle-aged man was very unassuming to the point that if Viktor didn’t know it beforehand he would have never pegged the man to be one of the famous Marshals of the Republic.

On the other hand, the man’s wife struck a completely unmistakable and unignorable figure. Viktor had always prided himself on being above average in height compared to others, but the towering, burly woman easily stood half a head or more above him, with arms so thick they nearly rivaled his thighs in size. It made Viktor wonder if the woman did not have some dwarven blood in her ancestry somewhere.

He also didn’t miss how the fearsome woman glared at him as if she wanted to eat him alive, and even if he knew that the imposing female Marshal might have done it for intimidation purposes, it was hard to remain unaffected when put under the glare of such an individual.

That the mercenary captain was present was slightly surprising, but then again, Viktor had to admit that he had grown a grudging respect for that man. The way the mercenaries charged into the middle of his army’s formation in a move that could easily result in their annihilation without so much a speck of doubt or fear was a feat that even his best soldiers would be hard pressed to replicate.

Much less to succeed at, which the mercenaries had also done, to his detriment. Sure, the Caroman thrust had helped to corral him and reduce his escape routes, but without the mercenaries being there as well, he likely could get his army to retreat and regroup for another fight, at least.

As a man who had employed mercenaries on many occasions himself, he felt no anger towards the mercenaries for ruining his plan. All he felt instead was envy and jealousy for the Levainian councilors that they managed to contract these mercenaries while he couldn’t. He knew that he still had offers open for takers both before and after the time when the company entered contract with Levain, so clearly they were uninterested in what Podovniy had to offer.

Which was fair, as the contract he offered, with a chance for the mercenaries to be paid in land and titles, was partly a trap since the failures wouldn’t need to be paid at all.

At least the Levainians were kind enough to offer him a seat with a proper footrest so he could avoid stressing his broken leg. Small kindnesses might not be much, but it was something, and it also showed that they had the intention to negotiate with him in good faith, unlike some people he could name from the previous years of the civil war. People usually rarely bother to be nice to someone they plan to just kill off, after all.

There was even a seat for Simeon, which his old friend took gratefully. Viktor felt rather saddened when he looked at his friend and loyal retainer’s face. Simeon looked as if he aged a whole decade after the battle was lost, likely due to the stress and guilt he felt as he – as the general – was at least partially responsible for said loss.

It was something he would need to talk with his friend about once they returned safely.

For the time being, however, the negotiations awaited him. He knew that it would be unpleasant, and that he would likely have to empty a good chunk of his treasury for the compensation and ransom he would need to pay for Levain. As for concessions, it would depend on how far the Levainians were willing to push and what they would deem acceptable.

Of course, he also had to consider the Caromans in the picture as well. While his army did not attack the Republic itself, the Caromans lost quite a few people in the battles they had, as they fought on Levain’s side. That would need some compensation and concessions on its own, though at least there were less issues about ransom there.

“Glad that you could be with us today, Marquis Esvant,” said the Levainian Chairwoman in greeting. “Let us get to the meat of the matter, shall we?”