Bolrakei insisted on bringing several of her advisors.
The dragon riders, Sela and Elias, were also present, but acting only as observers.
Once they all sat down, it didn ’ t take long for the dwarves to start arguing.
“… I ’ m just saying that everyone needs to pull their own weight, ” Utan said.
“ My clan can ’ t spend their time doing menial labor, ” Bolrakei sniffed. “ We ’ re highly-skilled artisans. We earn more money cutting gemstones. That ’ s what we ’ re trained to do. We would be most useful in that role. ”
Silence hung in the room for a moment.
Utan shook his head. “ I won ’ t allow that. Ye just want things to go back to how they were before. We have no use for yer baubles and gewgaws here! What we really need is more farmers and laborers. ”
“ You ’ re being unreasonable! ” Bolrakei said.
“ I ’ m not bein ’ unreasonable, ” argued Utan. “ If ye want to share this mountain with us, Klorra-Kanna must do their share of the hard labor, just like everybody else. ”
“ That ’ s ridiculous! ” she replied, her voice rising to a shout.
Skemtun sat between them, not responding. He was totally shocked and didn ’ t know what to say.
“ Ye think that shouting will get ye what ye want, ” Utan continued. “ Well, it won ’ t work! Not here. My people can wait inside this mountain forever, and we don ’ t ever have to allow ye inside. Shout until ye ’ re blue in the face, for all I care. Ye ’ re the ones who need our help, not the other way around. ”
Bolrakei pounded her fist on the table. “ You forget yourself! My ancestry is royal — do you even understand what that means? ”
Utan ’ s eyes locked onto hers. “ Yer bloodline means nothing to me, Bolrakei, and it never will. There aren ’ t any princesses here. ”
“ How dare you speak to me so disrespectfully — how dare you! ” Bolrakei cried, springing to her feet. “ I come from royal blood. I deserve to be queen by right! I am from the highest family, and your father was nothing more than a lowly peasant farmer! ”
Utan gasped. “ How dare ye insult my family! I ’ m done here! This negotiation is over! ”
“ Wait — are ye sure you want to give up so quickly? ” asked Skemtun, finally speaking.
“ I ’ m leavin ’ , ” said Utan. “ I didn ’ t come here to be insulted. ”
Skemtun sighed and put his face in his hands. He knew that the negotiations couldn ’ t continue without Utan. If he wouldn ’ t agree to a treaty, then they were stuck at a stalemate.
Utan gave the dragon riders a respectful nod and left the negotiation room. “ My guards will escort ye all out. The dragon riders are welcome to stay. ”
Bolrakei spun on her heel and left, followed by her advisors.
“ This is hopeless, ” Skemtun muttered. “ Bolrakei is ruining everything. ”
“ We ’ ll try again in a few days, ” said Kathir quietly. “ Maybe the dragon riders can talk some sense into her. ”
“ Maybe, ” said Skemtun, but he was doubtful. It was frustrating to have to return to his people without any good news to report. Bolrakei was the problem, but at least half the dwarves supported her unquestioningly — partly because of her high birth, but also because of her unwavering belief in the superiority of the “ old ways. ”
Even under these difficult circumstances, most of the clans still considered the Vardmiters beneath them, and they expected the Vardmiters to capitulate to their demands.
Old prejudices were hard to break. Skemtun was learning that the hard way.
They walked outside, and Skemtun paused on the hillside to view the camp. The refugee camp sprawled before them on the lower slopes of the mountain. Many dwarves were constructing outdoor shelters with whatever materials they could find. There were a few large tents, wooden lean-tos, and simple shacks. Skemtun didn ’ t like the idea of living the rest of his life outside a mountain; it just wasn ’ t
The dragon riders, Sela and Elias, were also present, but acting only as observers.
Once they all sat down, it didn ’ t take long for the dwarves to start arguing.
“… I ’ m just saying that everyone needs to pull their own weight, ” Utan said.
“ My clan can ’ t spend their time doing menial labor, ” Bolrakei sniffed. “ We ’ re highly-skilled artisans. We earn more money cutting gemstones. That ’ s what we ’ re trained to do. We would be most useful in that role. ”
Silence hung in the room for a moment.
Utan shook his head. “ I won ’ t allow that. Ye just want things to go back to how they were before. We have no use for yer baubles and gewgaws here! What we really need is more farmers and laborers. ”
“ You ’ re being unreasonable! ” Bolrakei said.
“ I ’ m not bein ’ unreasonable, ” argued Utan. “ If ye want to share this mountain with us, Klorra-Kanna must do their share of the hard labor, just like everybody else. ”
“ That ’ s ridiculous! ” she replied, her voice rising to a shout.
Skemtun sat between them, not responding. He was totally shocked and didn ’ t know what to say.
“ Ye think that shouting will get ye what ye want, ” Utan continued. “ Well, it won ’ t work! Not here. My people can wait inside this mountain forever, and we don ’ t ever have to allow ye inside. Shout until ye ’ re blue in the face, for all I care. Ye ’ re the ones who need our help, not the other way around. ”
Bolrakei pounded her fist on the table. “ You forget yourself! My ancestry is royal — do you even understand what that means? ”
Utan ’ s eyes locked onto hers. “ Yer bloodline means nothing to me, Bolrakei, and it never will. There aren ’ t any princesses here. ”
“ How dare you speak to me so disrespectfully — how dare you! ” Bolrakei cried, springing to her feet. “ I come from royal blood. I deserve to be queen by right! I am from the highest family, and your father was nothing more than a lowly peasant farmer! ”
Utan gasped. “ How dare ye insult my family! I ’ m done here! This negotiation is over! ”
“ Wait — are ye sure you want to give up so quickly? ” asked Skemtun, finally speaking.
“ I ’ m leavin ’ , ” said Utan. “ I didn ’ t come here to be insulted. ”
Skemtun sighed and put his face in his hands. He knew that the negotiations couldn ’ t continue without Utan. If he wouldn ’ t agree to a treaty, then they were stuck at a stalemate.
Utan gave the dragon riders a respectful nod and left the negotiation room. “ My guards will escort ye all out. The dragon riders are welcome to stay. ”
Bolrakei spun on her heel and left, followed by her advisors.
“ This is hopeless, ” Skemtun muttered. “ Bolrakei is ruining everything. ”
“ We ’ ll try again in a few days, ” said Kathir quietly. “ Maybe the dragon riders can talk some sense into her. ”
“ Maybe, ” said Skemtun, but he was doubtful. It was frustrating to have to return to his people without any good news to report. Bolrakei was the problem, but at least half the dwarves supported her unquestioningly — partly because of her high birth, but also because of her unwavering belief in the superiority of the “ old ways. ”
Even under these difficult circumstances, most of the clans still considered the Vardmiters beneath them, and they expected the Vardmiters to capitulate to their demands.
Old prejudices were hard to break. Skemtun was learning that the hard way.
They walked outside, and Skemtun paused on the hillside to view the camp. The refugee camp sprawled before them on the lower slopes of the mountain. Many dwarves were constructing outdoor shelters with whatever materials they could find. There were a few large tents, wooden lean-tos, and simple shacks. Skemtun didn ’ t like the idea of living the rest of his life outside a mountain; it just wasn ’ t
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