Jade War

Shae said, “Asking for such a significant increase in jade exports as soon as the mines begin running again, while at the same time you amass forces in our territory, is not going to cause Espenia to be viewed favorably by anyone on Kekon. The Royal Council is already under severe pressure from the public to reduce jade exports and condemn the Oortokon War.”

“Shotar is in a crisis situation,” the ambassador insisted, leaning forward for emphasis, “and Ygutan is a clear and present threat to us all. Kekon is geopolitically important not only as the world’s sole source of bioenergetic jade, but because of its strategic position in the West Tun Sea. We require your country’s full support.”

“You will not get additional jade,” Shae said. “Neither the members in the Royal Council nor the clan representatives that sit on the board of the Kekon Jade Alliance will agree to surrender more of the country’s reserves to a foreign proxy war.”

Ambassador Mendoff sat back and frowned. “Excuse me, Miss Kaul-jen, but you don’t speak for the Kekonese government.”

“That’s true,” Shae said. “You will have to wait for the official answer. It will be the same as the unofficial one that you’re hearing from me now. We have a saying in Kekon: ‘Gold and jade, never together.’ Those of us who wear jade don’t hold political office, but you’re not asking for gold—you’re asking for jade. In that, the clans have the final say.”

Shae hoped that the two men picked up on the subtle reminder: Kekon might be a small island with an undersized national army, but any attempt to exert military control over the country would mean contending with the Green Bone clans, which controlled the cities and all major industries and whose membership included thousands of trained fighters each wearing more jade than several elite Espenian soldiers put together.

The Weather Man said, “Allow me to explain, so you can communicate to your superiors: It’s not that we disagree with your stance against Ygutan. But in Kekon, we believe that jade is a divine gift from Heaven. A person must train for many years beginning in childhood before they can wear it, and it is our sacred tradition that it be wielded only by those who defend others. Of course,” she added, “we recognize the world has opened up and we are no longer the only ones who can possess jade, but nevertheless, it is central to our national identity. There is a large Keko-Shotarian population in Oortoko; they and other civilians will be caught in this conflict. We don’t want jade to become known as a tool of war for foreigners, one that might even be used to harm fellow ethnic Kekonese.”

“You’re suggesting that it’ll somehow tarnish Kekon’s reputation and the sanctity of jade for it to be used by military personnel in an armed conflict?” Ambassador Mendoff said skeptically. “Disputes between the clans in this country have resulted in people wearing jade killing each other with swords in the streets of Janloon. So where’s the logic in your argument?”

Shae spoke calmly but with a cold edge in her voice. “The two things you describe are entirely different. If you cannot see why, it is because you are not Kekonese.”

The two men looked disgruntled. The server came to clear their empty plates; Mendoff and Deiller glanced somewhat apologetically at the men beside Shae, who had not eaten or drunk anything from the meal. The translator, a junior Luckbringer in the clan, could not help looking at the leftover food hungrily as it was taken back to the kitchen. Woon, who knew well enough to have eaten his fill elsewhere before the meeting, did not spare the dishes a glance.

Shae waited for the server to finish pouring tea, then added in a more conciliatory tone, “Do not think, however, that this means we do not support our allies. Jade is a national resource that must be managed by all of Kekon, but I would speak to you now, not as a board member of the KJA, but as Weather Man of my clan. We can offer other things of value to you besides jade.” For the first time, she turned toward Woon, who immediately handed her a thick manila envelope.

Shae set the envelope down in the center of the table and observed that Colonel Deiller reached out to take it first. He removed the papers within and began to examine them. As he read, his eyebrows drew together, and though his face kept its gruff composure, his pulse quickened enough for Shae to Perceive. He handed the papers wordlessly to Ambassador Mendoff, who, after a few minutes of study, rubbed his mustache and looked up at Shae. “How did you get this?”

Shae had searched Doru’s files for the information he’d compiled after his trip to Ygutan on Lan’s orders two years ago. She’d questioned the Fist and the Finger who’d corroborated the report on the Mountain’s activities in that country, and with Maik Kehn’s permission, sent them back to Ygutan for four weeks, along with two of her own people, to verify and update their findings.