Ch 68

  Two days of work, movement, and arguing had passed since Matt decided to pursue negotiations, and thankfully, it seemed that inaction had gripped the other group during that time. Despite his efforts, relaxation eluded him as he sat on a stump that had been leveled to provide a more comfortable seat. He had no idea who he would be negotiating with, and he was acutely aware that he wasn't even close to being the best negotiator in his group. Nonetheless, he knew it had to be him to carry out the negotiations, as no one else could offer what he was both willing and able to provide. The weight of responsibility pressed heavily upon him, yet he understood the unique leverage he held, and so he prepared himself for the task ahead.

  “They’re five minutes out,” said Steve, stepping into the clearing. He wiped sweat from his brow. “Are you sure you want only you and Paul talking to their representatives?”

  “Yes,” Matt replied, his voice steady.

  “Matt—” Greg started, but Matt lifted a hand.

  “I know what I’m doing. Paul, follow my lead. When the meeting’s over, you can walk away with them.”

  “Just promise me you won’t lose your temper if they push for things you don’t want to give away,” retorted Paul.

  Matt stifled a chuckle. Beyond them, the dozen or so members of his group readied themselves: checking weapons, adjusting packs, glancing nervously toward the forest edge. The plan was simple—once discussions ended, Matt would rejoin the others, and Paul would depart with the representatives.

  When the delegation of twenty finally emerged—Zhihao among them, flanked by her four escorts—the rest of Matt’s group slipped away into the underbrush. The four escorts hesitated, uncertain whether to follow.

  “Don’t worry,” Matt called. “You can go, too. They won’t dare harm me; that would kill any chance of getting my help.”

  The escorts moved to step back—but one of the visiting delegates, a tall man in muted green, raised his hand.

  “We’d actually feel safer if they stayed within sight,” he said coolly. “It’s possible this is a trap—your forces lying in wait to ambush us at the first sign of weakness.”

  Paul, leaning casually against a boulder, glanced at Matt. “Ask me if there’s an ambush planned,” Matt murmured.

  Paul’s voice dropped into a bored drawl. “Do you intend to do anything other than negotiate in good faith, assuming we do the same?”

  “That’s not what I told you to ask,” Matt replied with an exasperated sigh.

  Paul grinned. “It covers more than just ambushes and still gives you options if things go sideways.”

  The delegate bristled, then waved sharply. “Fine. They can withdraw. Clearly, you lack any sense of tact.”

  Paul’s grin widened. “He used to be a hermit, living alone in the mountains—so I hear. Not exactly diplomacy school material.” He nudged Matt with an elbow. “None of us are known for tact, right, Mando? Now, how did you persuade everyone to let you do the talking?”

  Mando chuckled darkly before answering. “Simple. I’m nobody’s favorite, but I’m nobody’s least favorite, either—and I understand all the main viewpoints.”

  “See?” Paul gestured at the delegation before looking at Matt. “That’s democracy for you. It’s also why our two groups can’t just merge—too many conflicting opinions.”

  “Enough,” Matt cut in, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I’m well aware of your theories. Mando, is it? Can I assume your group will honor whatever agreement we reach here?”

  Mando and the other delegates exchanged glances with those around him, then nodded. “As long as the council I represent votes to accept it, yes. Now—what’s your offer?”

  Matt frowned, recalling the common wisdom that the one to make the first offer would lose. However, he also understood that asking what the other party wanted at this point would likely lead to a negative outcome. With a resigned sigh, he opted for a simple yet effective diversion tactic.

  "I am here, simply, to find a way to prevent us from clashing and avoid the senseless loss of over 100, if not 300, lives," he stated.

  Mando nodded, acknowledging the tension. "Your group does indeed create a rather frustrating situation for us, as you hold a defensible location," he admitted. "Therefore, we would be happy to accept your full surrender."

  Matt shook his head, a determined look in his eyes. "We both know that isn't going to happen," he replied. "Instead, I propose this: I will heal anyone who comes to the fort, and in return, any of your members who wish to leave your group and join us may do so."

  Mando scoffed. "Please, such a poison pill wrapped in benevolence is quite an insulting opening offer."

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  "And requesting an unconditional surrender is equally so," Matt countered. "Paul, ask me what action I will take if this meeting fails."

  Paul, sensing the gravity of the moment, asked, "What action will you take should an agreement fail to be reached?"

  Matt's expression hardened. "I will act on my own to methodically eliminate as many of your members as I can, without feeling that I am recklessly endangering my own life."

  Mando retorted with a smirk, "So, you'll do nothing. I'm sorry, but with you warning us like this, I can't see your actions as anything but reckless."

  “You haven’t faced him yourself,” Paul retorted, eyes narrowing. “Unless you’ve tripled every camp’s size, I’d bet he’d slaughter a few each time he struck, then slip away scot-free. Don’t forget—he can regenerate, transfer his wounds onto others, and even heal them by absorbing their injuries.”

  Mando’s lip curled. “Why are you helping him? Why am I even asking—I know your words can’t be trusted.”

  Matt leaned forward, calm as could be. “Paul, ask me whether I consider that statement false or deceptive.”

  Paul’s brow furrowed. “Did you tell me to say that, or otherwise steer these talks in your favor?”

  “No—but I did instruct you to pose every question I supplied, and you’re not doing that.”

  Paul shrugged, flicking dirt from his boot. “Look, I’m a free agent. I look out for myself. Mando, where do you think my interests lie?”

  “I don’t care,” Mando snapped, shoulders tense. “At least you’re not siding with him. Now make a real offer.”

  Matt’s gaze intensified as he looked at Mando like he would rather kill him than keep talking. “I’ll heal your wounded. In return, your men will cease murdering anyone who refuses to join you, and we’ll open honest trade between our groups.”

  Mando’s eyes glittered with disdain. “And what could you possibly trade?”

  “We have hides drying right now—tanned leather, plus tools and crafts to fill many of our camps’ shortages,” Matt answered, voice low. “That knowledge alone should be valuable to both sides.”

  “If you hadn’t raided us and killed five of our chieftains, that might have worked,” Mando growled. “We could make peace with your faction, but never with you. Here’s the deal: you turn yourself over, and we accept your terms.”

  “No,” Matt said, voice steady as stone. “I’ll go into exile, dropping by the fort now and then to mend the wounded, but I refuse to be your prisoner—or anyone’s.”

  Mando leaned forward. “Add a clause for healing our—”

  “Stop,” Matt growled. “I will never knowingly step into your territory unless I’m hunting those who break our pact. Otherwise, send your wounded to my stronghold if they need care.”

  Mando’s nostrils flared. “You think you’re above accountability—”

  “Don’t tread that line, or you’ll only spill more of your own men’s blood,” Matt warned, voice steely. “Those five were the only men I’ve ever killed. No one in my group has drawn a blade. It’s your followers who leave bodies behind—and you dare complain when I behead your commanders? Keep up your raids, and it will be your own head I return with. I don’t hide behind votes; I act.”

  Mando’s jaw clicked. “Threats in a negotiation—”

  “Warning,” Matt corrected, voice low but firm. “I don’t care about the day-to-day happenings of anything but slaughter. The only thing keeping me from doing unto you as you have done to others is that I don’t feel like having that much human blood on my hands.”

  He leaned against a moss-covered tree and watched Mando frown, ears straining to catch the murmurs of the group behind him. Their whispers drifted on the chilly breeze—fragments of argument and doubt. When they fell silent, Matt knew exactly what came next.

  “The main issue,” Mando replied, voice taut, “is that transporting our injured isn’t something we think they all can survive—”

  “I don’t care,” Matt cut in. “There’s no way I can trust your group enough to cripple myself by healing every one of you.”

  Mando’s eyes narrowed. “What if we had Paul confirm that we intend to release you—”

  “Intentions change,” Matt said, stepping forward and taking a stance from which he could attack from if he wished. “I don’t trust him to be flawless. He’s here only because I know you value his skill—and would show up to get him back.”

  Mando glanced at his companions. “We need a day to discuss this with the group before we’ll accept any terms.”

  Matt’s lips twisted. “I thought you all could agree.”

  Mando shook his head. “If we could, we would. We’re split. Our bottom line is you heal our wounded—especially those who can’t move. They’re a drain on our supplies—”

  “But you won’t kill them,” Matt interjected, folding his arms. “To do so would send the message that anyone who risks everything for the group can expect nothing but death when they suffer the consequences.” He rubbed his jaw, searching for compromise. “Fine. I’ll guide you to a nearby manor—a decent base of operations. You move your entire party there. Once my people verify that only the immobile wounded remain, I’ll heal them.”

  “That manor is crawling with goblins,” Mando retorted, frowning deeply. “Or did you think we hadn’t scouted the area?”

  Matt’s smile was thin but confident. “The goblins have been dealt with. The tunnel down to their caves is sealed—for now. I suggest posting guards; they’ll try digging through again.”

  Paul, who had watched silently, stepped forward, astonished. “You dealt with them? How?”

  Matt gestured toward the direction of the manor. “When was the last time any of you approached it?”

  Paul swallowed hard. “Not since about two-hundred female goblins charged out and nearly overwhelmed us. Most of our injured came from that attack—and more than one of our number was dragged off.”

  Matt had to restrain his reaction as he realized that his actions had inadvertently led to their misfortune. While formulating his response, he said, "That would have likely been around the time I led a group of monsters into their caves and made my escape from the manor. Just the other day, when I scouted the area again, I discovered it had been thoroughly ransacked and stripped bare, likely by the female goblins that your group encountered. The men there weren’t treating them well, either."

  "So, are you saying we have you to blame for that fight?" Paul asked, as the others exchanged knowing smiles at the thought of pinning yet another incident on him.

  "Am I a goblin, or do I possess the ability to control their actions?" Matt retorted, his voice edged with frustration.

  "No, you’re not," replied Paul. "But if you provoke a bear and then run past someone else’s camp to escape it, and it ends up attacking them, are you free of guilt?"

  "Did I even know their camp was there?" Matt countered. "Regardless, I will not take responsibility for what the goblins did to your group, but I’m more than willing to help eliminate any of them you can find."

  "Fine," Mando interjected, his tone firm. "We will move to the manor and request that by this time tomorrow, you send a group large enough to guard our injured. After they are healed, you will make yourself available for healing—"

  "When I feel like it and only at the fort," Matt interrupted. "I am not a slave, nor should anyone expect or rely on me to be available to heal them whenever they need it."