“Hello? Konnichiwa? Can you understand me? I’m Shooter. Shoo-Ter. Nice to meet you.”
My name is Yoshida Shuta. I’m a thirty-two-year-old villager, today engaged in negotiations while wearing my handsomest birthday suit.
I’d tied my beloved wife-knitted thong to a wooden pole, which I waved in the air as I drew nearer. Three bull-kin strode toward me, weapons bared. So this was the response I got for my nice, friendly greeting! What a streak of bad luck…
They surrounded me at a fair distance, just slightly farther than my own height, ensuring that I wouldn’t draw any closer. Their combat skills were just as advanced as everything else about them, then—they realized that the distance of an opponent’s height combined with the length of their weapon was the ideal range for an effective attack.
“Hey guys, there’s no need to be so suspicious. What do you have to fear from a totally naked, unarmed human?” Here I was, totally cowed, and they still weren’t listening. “We’d like to talk to you. Can we explain our situation to a representative? You can see that I’m unarmed, so—”
I planted my white flag in the ground, then turned and looked back at all the people from the village.
The village chief in her knight-wear had her longsword out in front of her, its tip dug into the ground to prop her up in a regal pose. She squinted at me and the bull-kin. Gimul, the rest of the village leadership, the adventurers, and the hunters all lined up behind her.
“We have come to inform you of the governor’s intentions, as she rules this stretch of the forest,” I said. “We have no wish to fight you. We only want to speak with you.”
Apparently the bull-kin weren’t buying the idea that I wanted to talk with them. This may or may not have been because of all the people with all the weapons behind me. Who can say?
“What is it that you want?” one of them growled.
“I already told you. We want to talk.”
I raised both hands to show that I wasn’t going to resist, but that didn’t seem to have any effect whatsoever. They jerked their swords, which were still pointed at me, to gesture for me to sit down. I knelt.
“I’ll ask you again. What do you hope to gain from this talk?”
“You see that woman over there, the one wearing the armor? She’s the governor of this territory and a member of the knighthood: the noble Alexandricia. The governor has learned that your group of b…ah, of minotaurs has migrated into her domain, and she has come to pay you a formal visit.”
I had a hunch that the minotaurs would be offended by the term “bull-kin” that the residents of the village tossed around so casually, so I avoided saying it.
Back in the day, I used to work at an internet café frequented by some shady people. When I dealt with customers over the phone, I learned that there were a billion ways to accidentally piss someone off.
One customer I remember got infuriated when I said “thank you for your patience.” How dare I presume that they had already agreed to be patient, how dare I make it sound like the conversation was over, whippersnapper. They told me I should say “please give me a moment” instead, because that would mean I was requesting the customer’s patience. I still have no idea if that was just that one customer’s interpretation or if that’s actually something you have to pay attention to when you’re trying to be polite.
I had even less means to judge what might set these particular people off, but it felt like a sensible assumption. After all, calling them bull-kin would imply they were bulls—just beasts of burden. If a bunch of humans playing Imperialism Pretend waltzed up to my cave and said something like that to me, I know I’d be seeing red.
Oh, they’d probably think, look at these disgusting barbarians, calling us slurs again. And boom, complications and possibly a war and-slash-or stampede. A naked failure.
I cleared my throat. “Essentially, our chief would like to know when your group of minotaurs came to this territory and whether you have any plans to expand your home on the r—the range of your home. If so, there’s obviously the potential for strife to break out between our peoples, and our chief would like to strike a deal before any problems arise or escalate.”
“And that’s all? Really?”
“Really. We’d like to speak to your representative, whether that’s your governor or clan chieftain or anyone else with a similar role.”
“And that person will be speaking with your governor, is that right?”
“Our chief Alexandricia and your representative, to create a level playing field—I mean, to meet as equals.”
I swore to them that we weren’t going to try to slip anything past them, but really, what did I know? The village chief had called this a battle without bloodshed, but she still knew how to seize the initiative. She hadn’t mentioned anything to me, but she might have a secret weapon she intended to whip out when the moment was right.
“We can wait here,” I said. “What will you do now?”
“Bah! You think we’ll trust the word of a human? You obviously came here to intimidate us into leaving our cave. Just look at those soldiers you brought.”
“You’re not, wrong, exactly, but you still need to inform your superiors.”
“Understand that if you attack during the discussions, we can handle ourselves.”
Why was this musclebound beefman hanging back and bluffing with such a timid threat? Could it be that as their culture advanced, the bull-kin lost the bravery of the barbarian? Or maybe that lack of aggressive macho-posturing was how they became so cultured?
“And…and n-now we shall go to our chieftain,” he said, “who will decide whether to parlay with you. In the meantime, you’ll wait here.”
“With pleasure.”
A momentary gust of wind dissipated and rose again. My privates swayed with each swell and drop in the wind like a great oak tree, or perhaps a loose frankfurter tumbling through city streets at night.
We had agreed ahead of time that Nishka would use her wind magic to signal me if anything was up. Evidently, the village chief had reached the end of her patience—because there the signal was.
If I put a hand on my hip, it meant the negotiations were proceeding. If I crossed my arms, that meant negotiations had broken down. And if I touched my crotch, that meant to wait.
Which meant that I was forced to jiggle my jolly-place right in front of the minotaurs.
“Our chief Alexandricia is a very tolerant woman. We will be happy to await your chief’s reply. We did come here to hold discussions, after all.” As I said that, I gave the villagers behind me a chill, nonchalant kind of look, then covered my crotch with both hands.
“Uh.” A minotaur opened his mouth. He closed it. Opened it. “What…what are you doing?”
“What am I—?”
“With your penis.”
“Oh, you know. Ha! I feel kind of stupid having such a serious discussion while I’m completely naked. I figured if I covered my little guy that could make things! Less weird! Ha!” I grinned. “Ha ha! Ha. Yep.”
One of the three minotaurs slid his longsword back into its sheath and hurried into the cave.
While we waited for the man who had run off to inform the clan chieftain, I sat on a rock near the cave entrance and got into a deeper conversation with one of the minotaurs.
I crossed my legs thoughtfully. “How many years have you all lived here?”
“Are you asking about our colony? We established our settlement here just two winters ago.”
“So this is your third year in the area?”
“Yes. You know, you have unusual features for a human from these parts. Your face is so flat, you almost look like an elf. Are you half-elven?”
The other minotaur stood in stubborn silence. He kept his sword pointed at me, obviously disgruntled.
“Sorry to disappoint, but I’m full human. I do come from a land pretty far away, though.”
“Oh, really? What’s your name? You look like you get a lot of exercise. Are you a warrior?”
“My name’s Shooter. And I guess you could call me a warrior, yeah.”
“Oh, that’s right. Shooter, you said. You use a bow, then?”
I shrugged. “What’s your name?”
I tried to be as friendly as possible to the bull-headed man seated beside me. Even if he did get to wear such fancy clothes. Lucky bastard.