Chapter 3

“Your retainer, Chimali – he’s quite an exceptional fellow.”

“He takes some getting used to,” Xoc replied, “but I think so too. Chimali’s worked hard to become who he is today.”

She wouldn’t have thought of it that way when they were younger. Back then, everyone saw him as a troublemaker at best. Even the local Merchants never gave him a chance, which was strange considering how well he was doing as one now. Xoc supposed that one hungry city youth didn’t look much different from any other in their eyes.

Chimali’s decision to divide their guests into two distinct parties was based on their social standing, but not in the way that one would usually see things. Having the visiting Merchants lead the way allowed Enmatzli and the other lords – including herself – to gain their conversational bearings while the Merchants endlessly chatted away about everything of interest. Not that Enmatzli chose the same topics to discuss…not directly, at least.

“Rol’en’gorek teeters on the edge of anarchy,” Enmatzli stroked his jowls as his Merchants expressed their admiration over a set of metal tools, “yet ocelo Pa’chan has brought unprecedented prosperity to a place most well known for its abject poverty. I can only wonder what sort of magic you’ve worked over the city, il-Enxoc.”

“It’s nothing that we weren’t capable of before, Enmatzli,” Xoc replied. “If the right people and opportunities had lined up generations ago, Ghrkhor’storof’hekheralhr would be a very different place from what it is today.”

“Let’s not be so humble, il-Enxoc,” Enmatzli made a sweeping gesture with a paw. “Luck may have played an important role here, but luck alone is woefully insufficient to achieve all this. My introduction just now was not merely composed of empty words: I truly sense the greatness that is within you.”

I wish I could sense the greatness that is within me.

She thought she had gotten used to the eerie manner in which people seemed to gravitate towards her, but having a lord from another city end up the same way was beyond bizarre. Mitra was capable of doing some incredible things as a Bard, so maybe it was Winter Moon’s doing this time.

“Greatness is the last thing on my mind right now,” Xoc said. “All of the prosperity that you see here will mean nothing if it cannot spread to the rest of Rol’en’gorek. I don’t mean to come across as patronising, but…do you understand the situation in which our people currently find themselves?”

“The prolonged flooding is wreaking havoc with the herds in the lowlands,” Enmatzli said. “Before spring, most of Rol’en’gorek will be starving; fighting one another over what scraps of food remain. It will mean the end of our Confederation.”

That’s it?

“Il-Enatazli ocelo Atazli hasn’t mentioned anything to you?” Xoc asked.

“Il-Enatazli?” Enmatzli’s steps slowed, “I haven’t heard anything from him since he went west with his warriors to the Draconic Kingdom.”

“Then whoever is leading ocelo Atazli in his absence…”

Enmatzli only gave her an uncomprehending look in return.

“How about the dispatch of forces to the east that happened last month?” Xoc asked.

“The representatives that landed in Atazli told us that reinforcements were needed in the east since we had already dedicated a large portion of our forces to the west,” Enmatzli answered. “It seemed reasonable enough to me and helped thin out our numbers ahead of the coming crisis. If you’re asking about matters related to the warrior clans, il-Enxoc, should you not know more about them than I?”

She apparently did, if only through pure happenstance. It wasn’t the best of places to discuss everything Enmatzli wasn’t aware of, however, so Xoc settled on mentally grousing over the way that the clans had segregated themselves and all of the problems it led to.

“Then let’s focus on your realm of expertise,” Xoc said. “First, I’d like to understand how Atazli is run. I’ve only been far from Ghrkhor’storof’hekheralhr once. From what I’ve seen, things work very differently in the rest of Rol’en’gorek.”

“What you say should be true for most of Ghrkhor’storof’hekheralhr’s existence,” Enmatzli replied. “But does ocelo Pa’chan not operate in the same manner as the other warrior clans?”

How should I explain this…

Xoc cast a wistful glance at Winter Moon, wishing that she could speak in her stead. The Bard was so powerful, eloquent, and knew pretty much everything. It had taken Xoc months to grasp the basics of what she had shared with her and the only way she could convey her understanding of it was through her own, highly limited knowledge.

“We don’t collect tribute if that’s what you mean,” Xoc said.

“Then how do you keep things going?” Enmatzli asked, “Without the other clans–”

“There are no ‘other clans’,” Xoc’s voice rose by a notch. “Not in Ghrkhor’storof’hekheralhr, anyway. Ocelo Pa’chan isn’t like any warrior clan that you know. We shouldn’t even be calling it ‘ocelo’ Pa’chan since we aren’t an Ocelo clan anymore.”

Enmatzli and his companions fell silent, each bearing equally unsettled expressions. She could understand the reason behind their discomfort, though she thought it was pretty silly. For as long as everyone could remember, their society had been divided between the ruling warrior clans and everyone else. Ghrkhor’storof’hekheralhr, on the other hand, had no clans to speak of and everyone lived in mixed communities, so what most considered an unspoken taboo didn’t feel out of sorts for Xoc and the other residents of the city.

“It isn’t rare for individuals to climb their way up into the ranks of a clan,” Enmatzli said carefully, “but they are generally individuals who have proven their worth. How can a clan ensure the quality and conduct of its members without strict requirements for entry? Surely not everyone is fit to become a mighty warrior or skilled artisan…”

“Not everyone needs to become one,” Xoc said. “At the same time, it’s not so hard to find ‘worth’ in any individual. The people of this city have always needed to prove their worth in order to survive.”

“And the clans accept the best of those people,” Enmatzli said. “We are the elite for a reason. Becoming less than what we are not only weakens our position, but also blunts the ambitions of talented individuals who wish to join our ranks.”

“This is a debate for a less pressing occasion,” Xoc said. “I was merely pointing the difference in our clan structure out to help explain how we maintain our operations.”

Ahead of them, Chimali stuck out his thumb in a weirdly Human gesture. His approval was lost on their guests as a result, but not Xoc. The Merchant’s Guild considered the population of Rol’en’gorek as a huge labour pool for her clan’s economic ambitions. Every migrant that came to the city looking for work was a win in their eyes, so letting the other clans cling to their old ways only benefited ocelo Pa’chan.

For Xoc’s part, she didn’t like excluding people for arbitrary reasons. The races of Rol’en’gorek were social by nature – though clearly not as social as races like Humans – and keeping people out of the group was a hateful idea to her.

“I can only imagine that having an all-inclusive clan is a nightmare to finance and manage,” Enmatzli said. “We lords can only handle so much as you must know.”

“On the contrary,” Xoc said, “being able to harness and direct the whole population makes it easier for us to achieve our objectives as a clan. As for management issues, we’re in the process of organising the communities of the city into new tribes.”

That probably made ocelo Pa’chan sound even stranger to her guests. They were accustomed to letting outsiders fend for themselves; trying to create new tribes was just extra work. More importantly, it meant giving away hunting grounds and pasturage for them to live on.

“Those tribes will all exist as a part of ocelo Pa’chan,” Xoc continued, “and everyone is subject to the same taxation system.”

“Taxation?”

It took a moment for Xoc to realise that Enmatzli had probably heard some gibberish since he wasn’t familiar with the term.

“It’s similar to the tolls that cities and towns charge for the use of their infrastructure,” Xoc said. “On top of infrastructure, however, our taxes pay for security, sanitation, administrative costs, and a few other things that are necessary for city life.”

“Is that not the purpose of tribute?” Enmatzli asked, “The warrior clans receive tribute so that they can focus on training warriors and maintaining their fighting edge. In exchange, tributaries receive their protection.”

“It’s not the same,” Xoc answered, “though the parallel you’ve drawn isn’t a bad one. Tribute is offered by tribes while taxes apply to households and individual purchases. Legally speaking, that means every taxpayer is entitled to the same benefits under Ocelo Pa’chan.”

“But what if one person pays more than another? Shouldn’t they be prioritised since their contribution is greater?”

They didn’t have anyone like that yet, so Xoc wasn’t sure how to answer. She knew it was something like a trap for tributaries, however. Each tribe and clan offered as much as they reasonably could, hoping that their suzerain would allocate more security forces to them.

“That would depend on the situation,” Xoc said. “Everyone in our territory should enjoy the same security. Things are nice and peaceful here, so I don’t think anyone would ask for more. As for our clansfolk that travel abroad, Merchants and the like lease our ships, which come with security forces. At any rate, security is important, but it’s only one aspect of ocelo Pa’chan’s operations. If anything, it’s everything else that generates the majority of our revenues.”

In theory, at least. Currently, the vast majority of her clan’s current revenues weren’t revenues at all. Instead, the majority of ocelo Pa’chan’s ‘revenue’ came from their continuous minting of copper trade coins. With the help of the Merchant Guild, her clan was taking advantage of the legitimacy of trade currency to pay everyone who worked for them or sold them stuff.

This was in line with the Merchant Guild’s objective of standardising trade currency throughout Rol’en’gorek, so they issued as much coinage as copper imports allowed. Presumably, coins gained through taxation would outpace the rate of minting at some point, but that was a long ways off yet.

“It seems that it will take us a while to grasp this ‘taxation system’ of yours, il-Enxoc,” Enmatzli said. “There is one thing that I do understand, however. Ghrkhor’storof’hekheralhr is a teeming metropolis; I can’t imagine that you can effectively collect tribute–”

“Taxes,” Winter Moon said.

“Erm, taxes from everyone. If they were collected as frequently as tributes are offered, it would take far too many people far too long. Not only would you need people to collect these taxes, you’d need security for each collector.”

Didn’t I say we’re nice and safe here?

She had nearly forgotten how the rest of Rol’en’gorek viewed Ghrkhor’storof’hekheralhr. The wealthiest clans used the old clanholds scattered around the city as a central meeting place, but otherwise remained far removed from daily life. They were figuratively and literally above it all. To them, Ghrkhor’storof’hekheralhr was a chaotic, dirty, and often dangerous place. Xoc couldn’t say that they had been wrong back before the restoration of ocelo Pa’chan, but it wasn’t as if a hundred people were killed every day. Well, maybe a bit more than a hundred, but it wasn’t that much.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

“We only have trade taxes at the moment,” Xoc said. “Ocelo Pa’chan controls the markets here, so it’s a convenient way to avoid the situation you’ve described.”

“I see,” Enmatzli eyed the stands around them. “So these Merchants add the tax to the cost of their goods, effectively taxing every family that frequents their stalls. Since this is a city, that’s everyone.”

“You catch on quickly, Enmatzli,” Xoc said. “I suspect you’ll adapt to everything that we’ve brought about in no time.”

“Well, any good lord would recognise the flow of things with what you’ve mentioned,” Enmatzli’s eyes narrowed contentedly at the compliment. “Do you truly believe the changes that you’ve introduced to be beneficial to Rol’en’gorek, il-Enxoc?”

“I do,” Xoc replied. “Our ways have barely changed over the centuries, so I consider what’s happening here long overdue. Furthermore, they bring us more in line with how the world outside of our jungle operates.”

“You’ve been beyond our borders? And you’re entertaining foreign guests…it seems that I’ve truly fallen behind the times.”

As Enmaztli lamented his self-perceived backwardness, one of Xoc’s ‘foreign guests’ emerged from under a nearby stall. Xoc scooped up the Human cub before something happened to it. Sounds of admiration rose from Enmatzli's delegation.

“You pounced before I realised it was there,” Enmatzli said. “Is that some kind of ape? I’ve never seen anything like it…what do they taste like?”

“They’re not for eating,” Xoc gestured to the ‘do not eat’ band on the Human cub’s arm.

“Then do you raise them for wool, perhaps? This one looks thoroughly shaven.”

How are we supposed to open up to the world like this?

Enmatzli’s first assumption was that the Human cub was food. Then, his thoughts ‘logically’ went from food to livestock. Saraca got crazy mad when he found out how the Humans in the Draconic Kingdom were being treated, but the reality was that most of Rol’en’gorek’s inhabitants naturally came to those conclusions – even those who had never seen a Human before.

The Human cub giggled in her grip, pawing at Xoc’s arms. Xoc called out to one of the market guards before hurling the child over the stands. It flew through the air with a delighted squeal before the guard leapt up and caught it.

“How about this creature standing on your Bard’s shoulder?” Ematzli asked, “It looks even more appetising than that ape.”

“That’s Vltava,” Xoc replied. “He came from a foreign land together with Winter Moon. I suppose it’s best to consider him as a sort of ornery nature spirit. You can try eating him, but I highly doubt you’d survive.”

“I see…”

“On the topic of foreign lands,” Xoc cleared her throat, “What’s the last thing you’ve heard from il-Enatazli?”

“We haven’t heard anything,” Enmatzli said. “I was hoping that you might have something to share with us on that front.”

“I see. Well, you must be famished after your journey and my court should be prepared to receive you by now. Let’s discuss this over a meal, shall we?”

“Of course, il-Enxoc.”

The Merchants were predictably reluctant to leave the market, so Xoc went ahead with Enmatzli and the other lords. The residents of the upper terrace – or her household, depending on who one asked – had swept away the leaves and laid out their best rugs for each guest. Her father was busy directing the chaos from one of the benches around the central fountain.

“Father,” Xoc said, “where are we seating Enmatzli and his companions?”

“Ah, allow me to take care of that, il-Enxoc. This way, please.”

Xoc breathed a sigh of relief as the lords were led to their places. Unfortunately, two of Xoc’s self-appointed ‘handmaidens’ lay in ambush and spirited her away to her home. They fussed over her appearance, fixing things that she was pretty sure didn’t need to be fixed and making dubious additions to her already dubious appearance. A third handmaiden appeared sometime later, bowing low to her before speaking.

“Il-Enxoc, Chimali has requested an audience.”

“An audience? Why can’t he just walk in?”

“That would be improper, il-Enxoc.”

“But–”

“That would be improper, il-Enxoc.”

She knew all of her ‘handmaidens’ from childhood and she had never seen them acting this way before. Someone must have filled their heads with nonsense recently.

“Fine,” Xoc said. “I’ll see him after we’re done here.”

It took a good thirty minutes before they finished grooming her. Probably the only good thing that came of the ordeal was that she didn’t have to deal with hairballs anymore.

Chimali swept his arms out in a bow as she emerged from her room and entered the house’s main hall.

“I’m going to bite you,” Xoc gave her friend a sour look.

“M-Me? But why?”

“What’s that weird bow for? Actually, everyone gets more ridiculous with each passing day. It’s gotten worse than a pride of Urmah. Wait, is that who everyone’s been copying?”

“O-Of course not,” Chimali’s voice rose in affront. “Why would we–”

“Then where is this all coming from?” Xoc asked. “Everyone’s acting all weird all of a sudden!”

“Don’t act as if you’re not doing it as well!”

“What?!”

“Look,” Chimali pointed. “You never did that before. It was only after Winter Moon and the others appeared that you started.”

Xoc crossed her eyes to follow Chimali’s gesture, but she couldn’t see anything. It was only after she turned her head to the side that she noticed the tip of her tail under her chin.

“You’re trying to hold your tail in front of your nose like Winter Moon does,” Chimali said, “but your tail is too short!”

“Sh-Shut up!” Xoc pulled her tail behind her, “Rol’en’gorek is on the verge of collapse and you’re staring at my tail.”

“All I’m saying is that you’ve been copying the outsiders, as well. People have been copying you in turn.”

Out of the corners of her vision, Xoc caught her handmaidens tucking their tails away. Were they all that impressionable? Then again, picking up on trends was a survival skill for those who lived in Ghrkhor’storof’hekheralhr. It shouldn’t have been surprising that everyone was imitating behaviours from an outside world that only seemed to improve ocelo Pa’chan’s situation with every idea introduced.

But where did her friends’ ‘handmaiden’ behaviour come from? She couldn’t recall any of their visitors acting that way.

“So,” Xoc said, “what did you come to see me for?”

“I just thought you’d like a report now that we’re back,” Chimali replied.

“How did it go?”

“They loved it, of course,” Chimali gave her a Human-like shrug. “New products; new technologies; new people – they all represent new avenues for profit. To be honest, I never realised such hunger existed until recently.”

“But we’ve been trading with the Great Lut for a long time, haven’t we?” Xoc noted, “If they’re so desperate for new things, why not get them from there?”

“I’ve only come across two Merchants who’ve run the southern trade routes in all this time,” Chimali replied. “Both of them say that the Lut only trades goods that are already in circulation in our markets.”

She didn’t like the implications of that. Saraca once suggested that Rol’en’gorek was being exploited by the Merchants of the Great Lut, but she had no grasp of the gap between Rol’en’gorek and the outside world until recently.

“We may need to be careful about the southern trade,” she said. “If the Lut is purposely trying to keep us in the state we’ve been in for generations, they’re not going to like what we’re doing here.”

“I’m not sure how we can control something like that,” Chimali said. “Our goods will eventually trickle southward through trade and someone is bound to investigate their value.”

“Maybe Master Leeds can figure something out,” Xoc sighed. “The last thing we need is a swarm of Dragons flying over to put us back in our ‘place’. Is there anything else we need to discuss?”

“Not particularly,” Chimali said. “Ambition and fear make for interesting allies. The Merchants will encourage Enmatzli to cooperate with us out of the fear that we might shut them out of our markets. I don’t know enough about Enmatzli to say whether he’ll listen to them or not, but I’m confident you’ll sway him to our side regardless.”

Xoc had no idea what he based his confidence in her on, but she supposed that it didn’t change what she had to do.

The court was packed by the time she emerged to seat herself upon her basalt throne. Clan Elders, newly appointed community leaders, and even the slumlords she was still trying to win to her side were present, making for a daunting audience that she hadn’t expected. She sent her gaze across the entire court before resting her eyes upon Enmatzli.

“Enmatzli,” she said, “I trust that our hospitality is to your satisfaction?”

“It is most gratifying, il-Enxoc,” Enmatzli lowered his head. “Even il-Enatazli has never afforded us a welcome such as this. I can only hope that this is a sign of things to come.”

“If only these were better times,” Xoc’s voice was grim. “Your tour of our civilian operations will continue in the afternoon, but, before that, I must inform you of the full scope of the peril facing our Confederation. Quite frankly, I’m astonished that you haven’t caught wind of any of it. Have the vessels you sent to supply our forces in the Draconic Kingdom not returned with news of the conflict?”

“Some of the barges have returned,” Enmatzli said, “but they reported nothing out of the ordinary. They delivered their cargo to a conquered Human city just beyond our borders, then traded their way back up the river.”

“Traded?”

“Yes, the barges we used to send supplies were chartered. Since we only needed them to deliver supplies to their destination, the Merchants who owned the ships were released from their obligations upon delivery and resumed their usual operations.”

If that was the case, Enmatzli’s information was months behind. But that shouldn’t have been the case for clans further west. She found it difficult to believe that no one had raised the alarm in the months since Rol’en’gorek’s defeat in the Draconic Kingdom. Maybe it was a warrior clan thing again.

“And ocelo Atazli hasn’t told you anything?”

“No, il-Enxoc. If I may ask, just what are you getting at?”

“Our forces in the Draconic Kingdom were defeated,” Xoc told him. “I can only assume that they’ve pulled back to defend our borders.”

Enmatzli suddenly rose, his mouth hanging open in shock.

“What? B-But ocelo Atazli sent its best forces! Those were the Council’s instructions, so everyone must have done the same. How could such a mighty army be defeated, never mind so quickly?”

“I don’t have the specific details,” Xoc said. “Our forces were confident about their victory when they departed this city, so someone unexpected must have happened. What’s happening in the Draconic Kingdom isn’t our most pressing concern, however.”

“How can a defeat of this magnitude not be our most pressing concern?” Enmatzli’s expression turned incredulous.

“Because the Jorgulans have overwhelmed our frontier defences and are presently invading Rol’en’gorek,” Xoc told him. “That was what the most recent round of recruitment was about. The warrior clans were more concerned about bolstering their numbers than they were with individual skill, which isn’t a good sign.”

Enmatzli sank back onto his seat. He stared silently at the half-eaten slab of meat in front of him.

“I…appreciate you informing us of what is going on,” he said after several moments, “but the warrior clans keep this sort of information to themselves for a reason. There is little that the rest of us can do but worry.”

“You’re wrong,” Xoc said. “That isn’t the sole reason why the warrior clans don’t usually share information with everyone else. They do it because they’re proud. Not in a self-aggrandizing way, but it’s pride nonetheless. The warrior clans consider themselves responsible for the security of the Confederation. Everyone else depends on them for protection. To ask for help from the very people who depend on them is a shame that they couldn’t live with.”

“Death before dishonour,” Enmatzli murmured.

“Something like that,” Xoc said. “Even I’m that way most of the time. The furthest the warrior clans are willing to go is recruiting the clanless under the pretence of having them join one clan or the other.”

“Yet you speak as though we may contribute to the war effort somehow.”

“I know that we can,” Xoc said. “In my time rebuilding ocelo Pa’chan, I’ve come to realise that the potential of our people isn’t anywhere near being fully harnessed. The way we’ve divided ourselves was only possible because what we’re naturally capable of as Beastmen is good enough to survive with. That very strength that has helped us to survive came with a price: our civilisation has remained the same for generations and the world has left us behind as a result. I will not allow Rol’en’gorek to remain in this state any longer.”

Hundreds of pairs of eyes fixed upon her as she spoke. It was enough to make most Beastmen flee in fright and confusion, but Xoc only considered the undivided attention of her court as a good thing.

“What do you propose?” Enmatzli asked.

“That we fight,” Xoc said simply. “Each in the way that they’re capable of. Every generation has many who aspire to become warriors, yet the warrior clans never had the means to facilitate those aspirations. Many more become trapped in the stagnant mire that Rol’en’gorek has become, doomed to repeat the same motions as the generations that came before us. I refuse to believe that this is all we will ever amount to and I would ask for everyone to help prove ourselves capable of overcoming the trials ahead.”

Xoc’s gaze settled upon the fountain in the centre of her court: the broken ‘projector’ whose purpose had long eluded the very descendants of the civilisation that had created it. As lamentable as their past was, knowing about it helped them little with their present situation.

“What I propose is change,” Xoc said. “A rebellion against stagnation. A rejection of the fate imposed on us by forces shrouded beyond our veil of isolation. We must escape the blindings that the Demon Gods have left us in for centuries, and we must do so before oblivion takes us all.”