Thes Imperials had such fantastic names. Haughtyman Stilts? I ask you? This one spoke Tilean poorly, all guteral sounds and awkward glottal stops. It was much more the common Tilean sterotype of Imperials  than the surpringly eloquent priest. I wondered why he had been apointed the ambassador, when he had a much better linquist to hand. Perhaps it was simply a matter of birth such accomadations were not unknown in Tilea. I had afterall returned from an embassy myself in which the Ambassador's chief qualification had been a burning need to get an embarassing relative out of the city.

"The people of Remas stand ready, as always, to defend both our own citizens and all Tilea from the depredations of both Greenskin and Brettonian alike," Alfeo Romeo replied, earning grins from many in the hall.

"We shall dispatch troops as soon as they become available, perhaps the White Shield company, or Orfeo's Pike," he suggested. Both Imelda and Marco immediately began to object strenously, citing reasons both creative and entirely immaterial to the problem. Neither of them wished their own condotiarii to be sent away from the city, thus weakening their position. Debate on the point raged for a few minutes before winding down.

"Is it agreed," Marco suggested, cutting through the debate, "that we may settle this matter once the Luccini arrive to conclude our treaty with Trantio? At that point we will be better able to dispatch troops freed up from the conflict." There was a slight pause as the other Triumvir's nodded. The court scribe took down the decision on a wax tablet, preperatory to being chisled on stone and presented to the people.

Imelda guestured me over to her with the crook of a finger.

"You are a courtesan yes?" she asked. I nodded my head.

"Camilla de la Trantio, Eminence," I introduced myself. She nodded, though clearly she didn't recognise my name.

"Well Camilla, it would be in my interest if one of the other Condottieri were sent on this Imperial errand," she whispered. I nodded understanding her position.

"You know which troops are loyal to me?" she asked.

"The Golden Bow and Orfeo's pike Eminence," I confirmed, having long ago made enquiries as to who served with who and under what terms. There were three other mercanry companies who might have secret understandings with Imelda, but it would have been impolite to suggest so in an open council chamber.

"Good, see that someone else is sent and I shall see you are properly rewarded," she told me before turning her attention to the next delgation presenting itself, a complaint about sub standard tile glazing. I nodded my head in understanding. It was a tall order but perhaps, with tact, it might be accomplished. I drifted away from the throne, looking for the Priest who had spoken so eloquently. Perhaps that was the place to start.