He unfortunately had a good point. “Alright, if you needed to know how the walls were built, who would you ask?”
Tolk thought about it for a long moment. “City maintenance crew?”
Darius felt like an idiot. Of course. Even the harbor walls would fall under the city to maintain and repair. “Tolk, you’re a genius. Where would their office be, I wonder?”
“No, don’t ask the officers,” Tolk corrected hastily. “They never know anything. Ask the actual crew. At this time of the day, could be at any tavern near the docks.”
Clearly, keeping Tolk with him had been a wise choice. “As you seem to know where to go, why don’t you lead the way and ask the questions?”
Tolk nodded and set off at a brisk walk. Darius followed and prayed they wouldn’t have to walk the length and breadth of the harbor before finding the right people that had the answers.
Six miles, three hours, and eighteen taverns later, they finally found a group of men that worked for the city maintenance crew that were willing to talk.
Tolk went ahead of Darius—they discovered early on that questions coming from a native Niotanan went over better—and Darius hovered just inside the doorway, waiting. For the first time, his bodyguard turned and gave him a nod, waving him forward. Relieved, Darius weaved his way in and around the tables. In this poorer section of the city, there were no chairs—simply low wooden tables and thin mats that men of every occupation sat on. Half the room remained empty at this early hour of the work day but it had signs of wear and tear on every wooden surface that he passed. A popular place indeed.
The group that sat around the table looked worn in. Skin leathery and tough from constant exposure to the sun, hair almost a light brown from being bleached by the sun’s rays, and they smelled strongly of salt. In fact, some of their shirts were still a bit damp which made Darius think they’d just gotten off shift.
There were five men altogether, and they looked up at him as he stopped at their table. Some of them were wary, some curious, but all watchful. Darius had no idea what Tolk had said to them to convince them to talk and he looked to his bodyguard for a cue of some kind.
“This is the General of the Niotan Army,” Tolk introduced quietly. “Raj, these men are part of the maintenance crew: Albak—” a balding man with a long scar along his right cheek nodded respectfully “—Babar—” the younger man sitting next to him had frizzy black hair and bulbous nose but a kind smile as he ducked into a seated half-bow “—Dara, his brother—” and they clearly were brothers as they had the same nose but Dara gave him a cautious look instead of a welcoming one. “Ehsan—” a scrawny man that looked barely out of his teens gave the barest hint of a nod, dark eyes narrowed in mistrust “—and Gabr.” Gabr struck Darius as the leader of the group as he studied Darius in a neutral way, clearly waiting on more information before passing judgment. His eyes were framed with several wrinkles, hair balding on top, hands scarred from a lifetime of work. Darius liked the look of him. If he approached Darius for a job of some sort, he’d likely hire him on the spot without checking his qualifications too carefully. Something about the man shouted trustworthy.
Darius gave them a very respectful inclination of the head. “Masters, I have some questions that I need answered.” Deciding a bit of flattery couldn’t hurt, he continued, “I tried speaking with the councilmen but they didn’t know how the city really works. So I thought I would track down the honest men who keep the city repaired and ask you instead.”
Gabr let loose a grin that revealed several missing teeth. “Smart. But I don’t trust a man that won’t give his name.”
Praying this wasn’t a mistake, Darius locked eyes with him and said frankly, “My name is Darius Bresalier.”
Every man at the table went taut. One of them let out a low whistle. Gabr just stared right back at him, grin in place, and let the silence stretch to the point of being very uncomfortable. “And what,” the man asked in a challenging tone, “is a high-falutin’ general doing asking questions of men like us?”
“The leaders of your city don’t trust me. I can understand why. But I have to know how this harbor is constructed. Your lives depend on it. My future in this country depends on it.”
Gabr still had that unreadable smile on his face, not letting any other emotion through. “Heard about what you did on the border. You fancy saving a country you nearly conquered? Strange if you do.”
“Is it?” Darius challenged in return, not backing down. “Niotan offered me a home when no one else dared to. All your queen asked for in return was my oath of loyalty and my military expertise. I think that gives me every right to save it.”
For a moment, Gabr’s smile became more genuine. He liked this answer. Extending a leg, he nudged a thin pillow next to him. “Sit down, General Darius Bresalier, and tell an old man how knowin’ how the port was built will help save me country.”
He felt like he’d just overcome some major hurdle. He sat down, gesturing for Tolk to join him at the table, which the bodyguard did although he kept a close eye on everyone and everything around him. Darius stole a look at the other four men as he crossed his legs comfortably. They were clearly not happy with him there but respected Gabr enough to let him sit. Or maybe their curiosity compelled them to hear him out.
I wish I had a huge tankard of water and about five minutes to plan this out. An idle wish, as they clearly didn’t want to wait even five seconds. Darius prayed that this wouldn’t be confusing or jumbled, opened his mouth, and just started talking. “Niotan doesn’t have a navy or even the ships necessary to cobble one together. Brindisi, being land-locked, doesn’t either, but the difference is that the Sovran can hire a navy or borrow one from one of their conquered countries if they need to. Brindisi will not win by coming by land—I promise you that. I’ve stopped them before when I had limited troops and time to plan. This time, I have months to plan and to train more soldiers. The next time that Brindisi marches against us, they will not come anywhere near that border. After that, I think they’ll realize that they can’t win against me on land.” Rubbing at the back of his neck he added, “Well, it might take more than just one battle to convince them of that. But they’ll realize it fairly quickly. When they do, they’ll be forced to choose between one of two options: either give up on conquering Niotan or come again by sea.”
“And you think,” Dara said slowly, “that they’ll come by sea.”
“Yes,” he answered honestly, splaying his hands in a helpless shrug. “Yes, I do. But as I said before, we don’t have a navy. If they come into this harbor, we won’t be able to fight them off. Unless…” here he turned to meet each man’s eyes as he spoke “…I find a way to turn a naval battle into a land battle.”
Babar tapped a finger on the table, deep in thought. “Yep, I’m followin’. I follow up til you needin’ to know how the port’s made.”
Darius raised a finger. “The only way to turn a naval battle into a land battle is to ground the ships. I need to know if I can add a gate onto the port walls so that I can lock their ships into the harbor and trap them here. Once they’re inside, I need to let as much water as I can out, quickly, so that they can’t maneuver the boats around and break out first. Do you see?”
With a weather eye on Darius, Ehsan leaned closer to Abak and whispered, “Cracy’s riddled. Megalo blue for bunko like that.”
He turned a look on the man that froze him stiff. “I realize I don’t know much about this situation, but I’m not crazy.” Both men turned red when they realized he’d not only overheard them, but understood them. “There’s a lot of water, yes, and this idea of mine does depend on the element of surprise. But that’s why I’m talking to all of you, to see how feasible this is and if you can think of a better plan.” On instinct he switched to slang to add, “Not yabbering. Tonly rough-hands give ballyhoo—twig?”
Gabr banged a hand against the table, making everyone jump, threw back his head and laughed outright. “Whoo! What a gene
ral ya be to come talk to honest folk in their own tongue. You’re good people, Darius Bresalier.”
Darius gave him a flourish and a bow. “You honor me, good master.”
The man flashed his gape-toothed smile again. “Your plan has a few flaws, but you’re right to come to us. Ya mind gettin’ wet?”
Now how did he answer that question? Hoping he wouldn’t regret this later he said cautiously, “No. Why?”
“Cause you’re about to.” Gabr stood up with a grunt of effort. “Let me show you why it can’t be done.”
~~~
He’d done crazier things in his life but at this particular moment, he couldn’t think of a good example. Climbing into a rickety row boat with two men he barely knew and a bodyguard that didn’t know how to swim and then rowing to the opposite end of a harbor seemed a bit…risky. His paranoid side insisted that if they wanted to kill him and dump his body, it would be the perfect site for it. After all, there would be no witnesses.
After all of that talk in the tavern, though, he couldn’t back out without raising some questions. And he didn’t dare pass up this opportunity. He’d never get another like it.
So he sat like a good little general in the back of the boat and waited patiently as they rowed over the water. The unfamiliar scent of salt and sea water filled his nose to the point that the back of his throat itched a little. This late in the evening, the air glided over the water and brushed against his skin with a slight coolness to it that promised much colder air later. He just hoped the water hadn’t lost much heat yet considering he’d be in it shortly.
Darius studied the wall as they rowed closer to it. He couldn’t see much of it over the water, but it seemed to be constructed of wood. Very thick, flat planks of wood that were tightly fitted together. He saw a few places that glinted in the waning sunlight, so there were metal joints here and there, but from this distance he couldn’t make out what they were.
But he could see the opening between the walls well enough. The two walls were curved out, coming out from the land in a natural arch so that it extended from the natural cavity in the land. The opening between these artificial walls was so wide that four shipping vessels abreast could pass through easily with plenty of room in between them. “If we tried to add some kind of gate to those walls, would the walls be able to withhold the weight?”
Gabr didn’t stop his steady rowing as he answered, “No. The walls were meant to hold the weight of the sea, it were. It canna do more than that without breaking.”
Darius let out a sigh and rubbed at his chin. “This is why I insisted on coming here myself,” he noted to Tolk, who sat next to him. “Just looking at the charts, the idea seemed feasible. It’s not until I’m here, with a pair of experts across from me, that I see it’s not.”
Tolk nodded in understanding, a troubled expression on his face. “So what can we do instead?”
“I don’t know. Not yet.” He shifted his hands to rub at his eyes, feeling weary. It seemed like he’d done nothing but problem solve ever since he’d stepped foot in this country. “I ran in to a similar problem on the eastern front. I had an army on my doorstep without the proper time to build barricades to stop them. I used oil then but I don’t know what I could use on moving water.”
“Oil?” Babar asked curiously.
“Oil burns for long periods of time,” Darius explained absently, his mind already chewing away at the problem. “I had the men pour large barrels of oils in random spots along the border. When they were lit on fire, it prevented the Brindisi army from charging at us in formation. It broke them up so that we could fight them individually. It worked very well.”
Babar and Gabr shared a look that spoke volumes. Babar cleared his throat and offered, “Oil floats.”
Darius paused and lowered his hands to look at the man. “Oil floats. How well does it float?”
“Always floats,” Gabr assured him. “Saying goes: oil on troubled water. ‘S how we tell how the water moves, by watchin’ the oil.”
“So it clumps together?” Darius asked, trying to pin down the specifics. “It doesn’t break up and disperse with the water?”
“Clumps,” Babar nodded in agreement. “Don’t know if it burns, though.”
Gabr looked toward the sky, arms still rhythmically rowing as he thought. “Bet it would.”
Darius made a promise to himself that he would experiment with that later. Maybe tomorrow morning. “It’s a good thought, though. If it doesn’t do what I need it to, I’ll have to think of something else.” Maybe chains? That begged the question, though: attached to what?
“Here’s close enough,” Gabr announced, bringing in the oar. Reaching behind him, he grabbed up a rope and reached out for a large metal ring hooked into the top of the wall. Babar maneuvered the boat around until its side rested against the wall, and Gabr tied them tight.
Darius figured this was his cue and pulled off both of his boots before shrugging out of his jacket. Tolk really didn’t like the idea of his master diving into the sea with some man he barely knew, but since he couldn’t swim, he couldn’t follow along. Darius didn’t think it’d do much good even if he could follow along. He’d prefer it if Tolk stayed and made sure the boat remained there. He had no desire to swim back toward shore.
Down to his pants, he stopped and looked to Gabr for direction. The old man had a funny smile on his face as if he found the sight of a lead general in his skivvies to be hilarious but knew he couldn’t laugh. The old man had only needed to kick off his sandals and shrug out of his shirt before he was ready to dive in and had paused to wait on Darius.
“Let’s go,” Darius encouraged.
“Water will sting your eyes,” Gabr warned cheerfully.
“It’s saltwater,” Darius said dryly. “I didn’t expect anything else. After you.”
Gabr took in a breath and fell over backwards into the calm water. Darius imitated him and fell in. The water had looked a sort of blue green from the surface and seemed inviting. His opinion radically changed as soon as he broke the surface. It was, in fact, rather chilly and a brownish color (that did indeed sting his eyes fiercely), and tasted terrible. Every poet that has written some romantic thing about the sea has clearly never been in it.
He came up spitting out sea water and slicked his hair away from his face.
Tolk hovered along the edge, brows in a flat line, looking poised to leap into the water whether he could swim or not. “Sir?”
“It tastes terrible!” Darius said, still trying to spit the taste of salt and grime out of his mouth.
Gabr and Babar both laughed outright.
“Get used to it, you will,” Gabr assured him.
Darius eyed him dubiously. Who would want to get used this sort of foul taste? Although they were probably paid rather well to do the job they did. In their shoes, he might feel that getting used to the taste would be worth the money.
Gabr motioned for him to follow and they swam around the side of the boat and to the back. “Deep breath,” he advised before he ducked under the surface.
Taking as deep a breath as his lungs could hold, he dove after the older man. In this murky water, it was hard to see for any sort of distance, but he didn’t need to go far. Gabr caught his wrist when he swam close enough and pulled him along easily to the wall. There, he guided Darius’s hand so that he could feel.
Between the poor lighting from the setting sun, the dimness of the water, and his limited tactile senses, he couldn’t be completely sure he understood the construction in front of him. But he had a clearer picture of it than he had when looking at it from up top. Satisfied, he pulled at Gabr’s hand and tried to communicate to the man through body language that they could go up again.
They kicked their way up to the surface. Darius had kept his mouth tightly closed this time, so he didn’t have that horrible taste lingering, but he still had to take a breath before he could talk. “The feel of it was, the walls are somehow joined together?”
/> Gabr nodded and lifted his hands above the water to illustrate. “One side built a little larger with a lip extended, the other side a little smaller and wedged in between.”
“And the large metal clasps that join them just in case,” Darius finished thoughtfully. “The wood struck me as being airtight, though, so shouldn’t it be floating?”
“Would, if it were hollow,” Gabr responded with a shrug that made the water roll a little. “How they got it here in the first place, by building it and floating it out. But now it’s all rock and gravel and cement in between to keep it strong and weighted.”
Darius listened to this carefully and frowned as he took the information in. “So you’re saying that even if I had someone undo all of the clasps on the sides, then you couldn’t pull up any of these sections.”
Gabr nodded in confirmation. “Too heavy. Even if they were hollow, it’d be a right challenge. The weight of the sea presses in from both sides. A man could throw his back out trying to pull it free again.”
He felt like bashing his head against a hard surface, only he wasn’t next to anything handy. “I now understand what you mean, Master Gabr. This truly won’t work. I thought if I could remove certain sections of the wall at will, I could lower the water level quickly. But this…,” he turned slowly in the water to look at the wall as it stretched out, “this would be a mammoth task and certainly not something done within a day. I’ll have to find another way to pump the water out quickly.”
“Aye,” Gabr agreed. “And pump it back in quickly, too. Ya don’t want the enemy stranded too long in this place after all.”
“No,” Darius agreed with a wry smile. “We want them to retreat when the time comes. You make a good point. I’ll need to consult with several engineers and architects to see if we can’t come up with a solution. When we do come up with an idea, can I talk with you again and see how feasible it is?”
Obviously pleased with the respect Darius was showing him, Gabr nodded. “Ya can. I’ll listen and chime in with me bit of wisdom, for what it’s worth.”
Kingslayer Page 19
