The road went along a high ridge, which was apparently composed of unproductive earth, because no trees grew on it. That made it particularly well suited for the King’s private road, since it was impossible to hide on either side of the road. Such a consideration was moot now, but it still made Gardric sit up straight, as if in pride.
Taréz simply liked the view it afforded over his forest. The sea of deep green stretched seemingly forever; other ridges stuck out like light-green wave crests. Here and there, a hole in the canopy indicated a meadow roughly 100 feet below.
The coach turned off the ridge, and went steeply down along the left side into the forest. It wasn’t very far to the meadow where the camp had been established, and Gardric had appropriated one of the trees nearby as his. The coach drove directly into the hollow at the base of the tree, where it stopped and the driver dismounted. He opened the door for Taréz, and Gardric stood beyond. “This way, Sire,” he said, indicating a lift.
The prince followed his Chief and waited as the sackfuls of soil bore them up to the second canopy. There was only a narrow platform facing the camp below. It was also mounted on hinges, so that it could fold up and protect the occupants of the observation chamber. This was where the Prince stayed, looking out the windows at the scene below.
And what a scene it was: Never before had such a conglomeration of Vle formed on the earth itself. Groups formed around piles of household items, and stones and wood were scattered thoughout as some Vle worked to put them together into housing. A fence had been erected, and it already appeared as if its circumference wasn't large enough. There were still light Vle arriving as the Prince watched, prodded and directed to various parts. However, the Prince was not wholly pleased. “They had to walk?!”
“Of course, Sire. There are not enough wagons in all of Larmania for everyone.”
“Still, I think it would have been nice to have some sort of trade off. Some ride, some walk. Order it so.”
Something clouded the Chief’s expression. “Yes, Sire.”
Taréz looked below again. “The soldiers don’t seem too particularly polite.”
“Sire, they are but soldiers. Some do not know the art of holding one’s tongue, or one’s temper.”
“Then teach them, Gardric!”
“Yes, Sire.”
“There are Vle without a roof over their heads.”
“We don’t have enough wood here—”
“We’re not operating a prison, Gardric! I shouldn’t have to tell you these things! Make their stay as comfortable as possible! It’s bad enough that I’ll have to endure their gripes about being here— I don’t want to hear about them sleeping in cramped, cold conditions!”
“Yes, Sire.”
That pretty much covered the concerns he had. But it still bothered him that the concerns couldn’t be addressed instantly. “Is this the right thing to do?”
Gardric made a gesture that Taréz had never seem him do before: he shrugged. “It was your idea, Sire.”
“Yes, but is Father solving the striking problem? Will they go docilely back to their jobs when he lets them go?”
“Why let them go?”
“Because we can’t afford to simply house and feed them and go without banking and mining profits.”
“We have more than enough qualified replacements.” Sometimes Gardric was so good at missing the point. He paused, and then said, “You are a wise prince. Your father has taught you well.”
“Thank you, Gardric.” Taréz allowed a small smile, but it didn't stay long.
“Of course, Sire.”
But there was someone else he needed to see. “I’ll send for you when I want to go. Send for Yis. Dismissed.”
“Yes, Sire.”
Taréz turned his attention to the headache below as he waited. What would Yis say? Would it be possible to remain civil?
Would Yis ever forgive his King?
“You asked for me, Sire?”
Taréz turned to see Yis in the doorway. “Yes. How are things here?” Suddenly, Taréz realized that was really a stupid question.
Yis answered anyway. “Well, more and more Vle are coming faster than we can accomodate.”
“I noticed.”
“There has been enough food so far, and we have a number who have volunteered to cook for us.”
“Good. What do you think of the possibility of there being a self-contained economy in there? I’m sure they’ll appreciate having a somewhat meaningful existence.” Another faux pas there. Meaningful?
Yis, bless his heart, answered that question as calmly as ever. “I was thinking the same thing, Sire. We have talents that we’d rather not waste.”
Was there an implication there? Ouch. “Of course. Has there been any violence?”
“No. For the most part, we have obeyed without complaint. Any violence is on the soldiers’ part.”
Taréz noted Yis’ use of the pronoun ‘we.’ He was separating himself, now, grouping himself with his kinsmen. He would not have done that as chamberlain. “Good. You will notify me immediately of any emergency?”
“Of course, Sire.”
“Very well. Thank you for your report.”
Yis bowed. “Your Highness.” He then turned, and left.

A few days later, a request from the Zvaljan ambassador came by pigeon to the King, a request to meet the Prince on Larmanian-Zvaljan border in the eastern forest. This was a country that didn’t have much in relations with other countries; when they did, they chose carefully. So, Taréz knew they had something to say, something like a warning, perhaps.
The trip took four days by coach, across vast tracts of forest, carefully taking whatever unforested ridges were available. Finally, they arrived in Ubrine. They passed under towns, some with exquisite treeshaping, that only creaked in the wind— No rumble of a thousand Vle feet nor murmur of a thousand voices in any of them. It was a quiet, empty forest. In reflection, the Prince realized that perhaps this emptiness was good for nature.
The selected site was a meadow on the border, at a spot beyond the range of an arrow. Beyond rose the snow-covered mountains, the only place snow could ever be seen in Larmania. The meeting place could also be said to be among the coolest inhabeted ares of the country.
The Zvaljan ambassador rode out of the forest on his side, accompanied by only a few horsemen. Taréz selected a horse, and got on from the coach step. As was Zvaljan custom, the meeting would take place entirely on horseback. The Prince chose three soldiers, tit for tat, and headed out to the line. They both stopped and turned their horses to stand parallel with the line, which ran more straight here than anywhere else along their frontier.
“Your Highness,” said the ambassador. “I am Thove Gromas.”
“Pleased to meet you.”
“My lord, the King of Zvalja, is most gratified that you agreed to meet me. It shows some... openness of thought.”
“My father taught me that when the ambassador of Zvalja asks for a meeting, it is best to go and listen well. We are surprised, however that the request was to meet with me and not the King himself.”
“It is generally known that Your Highness is, naturally, more involved in the kingdom than your father. Thus, the thought goes, perhaps Your Highness would be more open to our message.” “You have something to tell me?”
“I do. The kingdoms of the light Vle are concerned about recent events in your kingdom.”
“As am I, ambassador. There are events which made security a real concern. My father is attempting to deal with the problem.”
“I shall communicate that to my lord the king. He will undoubtedly ask, however, if there is not another, more... respectable solution to the problem.”
“If there is one, we have not yet found it. In the meantime, I place my honor on the promise that no Vle of light color will find his life in jeopardy.”
“That is indeed a promise of great significance. It would be well for you to keep it.”
“Of course. I sense, however, that you have an incentive for me to do so.”
“I do. There is talk of mounting a united offensive against your nation, in defense of light Vle. Plans are not firm, of course, but our military leaders are no longer afraid of the might of your army.”
“Indeed? That is most interesting. I highly doubt the Chief would be amused.”
“That would be understandable. He is regarded with respect in some circles, as you may know. However, as respectable as his skills are, your kingdom is not as secure as it once was. Of course, there is always a way out.”
“Yes, I know. Someday, we shall find that way out.”
“May I ask what may be a sensitive question?”
“You may, but I cannot guarantee an answer.”
“Very well. Your Highness is next in line for the throne. Do you know how you might handle this situation?”
“No, I do not. I find myself trapped in the same dilemma, though. Is there talk of killing my father?”
“None that I know of, but that is not to say it couldn’t happen. No, my point referred to his viewpoint regarding the light Vle population of the world. Some say Your Highness was... less than gracious to the Princess of A’peine at a ball.”
Taréz arched his brows. “Less than gracious? I have always endeavored to maintain perfect manners. Indeed, watchers may have noticed that I paid no attention to skin color at that dance.”
“I don’t know anything about what watchers may have seen, only what His Majesty the King of A’peine has reported.”
“In which case, he has a one sided view of the situation. If a slight was made, it was unintentional. Again, I stake my honor upon it.”
“You are very free with what you stake your honor upon, but I shall accept it. Nevertheless, know your enemy.”
“I acknowledge your warning.”
“Once again, I thank you for listening. It was most gracious of you.”
“I will not hesitate to listen again, should you ask it.”
“Fare well, Your Highness.”
“Fare well, Ambassador.”
The two men rode off in their separate ways. The ambassador had given Taréz much to think about, and think was all he did for the entire trip back to the palace.