The emperor trusted them to keep Kloe safe, but did she trust herself?
Chapter 25
Choices
“It’s not fair!” Tim shouted, his voice echoing off the walls of the townhouse’s atrium. “They’re going to kill him for something Sam did! It wasn’t his fault!”
“I’m not arguing with you, Tim; it’s not fair. But there’s nothing we can do about it.” Emil grasped his son firmly by the shoulders, imploring him to understand. “Some very powerful families lost loved ones when those ships were destroyed. The emperor’s decision is as much based on politics as it is on justice, Tim.”
“Politics? They’re going to kill him, Father. It’s not right!”
“I know it’s not right, but there’s no reprieve for the condemned when it’s the emperor’s final judgment. That’s the law.”
“Well the law’s stupid! Sam was the one who fired that catapult. Feldrin didn’t even know she was aboard!”
“I’m afraid the law backs the emperor’s decision on that, too, Tim.” Emil released his son and took a deep, calming breath. It had been a trying day, and what should have been a joyous homecoming had turned into an all-out argument. “A captain is responsible for the actions of all aboard his ship. Not knowing Sam was aboard is no excuse. Technically, Feldrin was responsible.”
“Technically?” Tim’s voice broke on the word. “How can you say that? It was Sam’s fault!”
“I know, Tim, but—”
“Milord,” Huffington interrupted, placing a hand on the count’s arm and nodding toward the settee.
The sight of Camilla with a very fussy Kloe in her arms, tears streaming down her cheeks, froze his heart. Both Camilla and Mouse were trying to calm the babe, while he and Tim railed at each other.
“Oh, Camilla, I’m sorry!” Emil said as he came and knelt at her side.
“The baby…” whispered Camilla.
“The baby will be fine,” he assured her. “My housekeeper is setting up a nursery, and Mrs. Klouch will stay with us and nurse Kloe until he’s weaned. Everything will be all right.”
“No!” protested Camilla. “Everything won’t be all right! Don’t you see? The baby, Emil! Cynthia’s baby!”
“Yes, I see. We’ll take good care of him until Cynthia—”
“Kloe will be ten years old before she’s released, Emil. How can we raise him the way he should be raised? Teach him what he needs to be taught? He’ll end up like Cynthia; too old to gain the magic. Too old to become a seamage.”
Emil sat back on his heels. He hadn’t even considered those ramifications of Cynthia’s imprisonment. Had the emperor? He certainly had advisors who could have told him that elemental mages ascend to their powers at a young age. Did he mean to prevent Kloe’s ascendancy by keeping him from his mother until it was too late? Was he that afraid of a line of seamages?
“How short sighted…” he murmured, considering how valuable an amicable relationship with a seamage would be for the emperor right now. Emil scrambled to his feet as inspiration struck. He took Camilla’s face in his hands and kissed her, much to the protestations of both Mouse and Kloe. “You’re brilliant!”
“What?” Camilla blushed, Mouse emitted a questioning “Eep?” and Kloe finally reached a point where fussy devolved into a full-fledged tantrum, his wracking cry making everyone cringe.
“My dear,” Emil said, “you may well have just saved Feldrin’s life. Huffington! Get Mrs. Klouch down here to take care of the baby. Tim, tell the cook we need dinner and blackbrew. Lots of blackbrew! We have some planning to do!”
≈
“All secure, Captain!” Quid reported, squinting into the morning sun with a grin. “Been a while since I seen this place, sir.”
“Not so long fer me; that crazy bitch Sam was with us that last trip. She’d hatched this plan to spread rumors about the seamage so the emperor would go after her.” Farin laughed shortly as he considered the result of their efforts. “Guess it worked, ay?”
“Worked too good, I think,” Quid agreed. “You goin’ ashore, sir?”
“Aye, and I’ll be takin’ two solid sailors with me. Keep an eye on things while we’re gone, Quid. Nobody goes ashore until we find some buyers for this stuff. Once it’s all sold off, we divvy up the proceeds and make our choices: who stays with the ship, and who stays in Tsing.”
“Aye, Captain. We’ll keep an eye on her.”
Farin nodded and ordered the launch to be splashed. It shouldn’t take long to find buyers for their goods. Then, with a ship and gold to buy cargo, he’d be an honest merchant captain. It was a far cry from being a pirate, but there were advantages to being his own lord and master.
He stood on the galleon’s quarterdeck and surveyed the busy harbor. The number and variety of ships that pulled into Tsing always amazed him. There were a couple of warships he recognized from Plume Isle, and he wondered how many had been left behind with the garrison. One was too many as far as Farin was concerned. No, the Shattered Isles were a lost cause, not fit for an honest pirate to ply his trade in any way, shape or form.
“Bloody shame,” he muttered, flicking his eyes from ship to ship, reading the names, analyzing the rigs and gauging the King Gull’s own capacity and capability as a merchant. She was not, by far, the sleekest or most seaworthy ship in the harbor, but she was no scow either.
His eye settled on one particularly svelte merchantman; something about the ship was familiar. Her transom swung toward them, and he read the name: Lady Belle. He’d never heard of her, but her lines were sleek and her brightwork gleamed; she was as pretty as a doxy all dolled up for a night on the town.
“Launch is ready, sir,” the boatswain said with a lopsided grin. The whole crew was in high spirits, and Farin knew the reason: money, new lives, and a vast city in which to spend both.
“Let’s go then!” he said as he descended the boarding ladder, all thoughts of the Lady Belle fading from his mind. He had money to make and a new life to begin.
≈
Emil surreptitiously wiped his hands on his coat as he entered the council chamber. He had negotiated scores of treaties and truces during his career, and had never been so nervous. He glanced around as he sat, feeling no small sense of irony. This was the very same chamber where he had argued for swift and decisive action against the upstart seamage, Cynthia Flaxal. He shook his head when he remembered how certain he had been of his judgment then. Time and events had taught him humility.
Every seat was taken, and assistants lined the walls. The mood in the chamber was one of somber foreboding; everyone knew why they were here. Finally, the double doors behind the emperor’s chair opened, and the guards came to attention. The herald and the emperor’s personal secretary entered first, followed by the intimidating form of Lady von Camwynn, the royal protector.
“His Royal Majesty, Emperor Tynean Tsing the Third,” the herald announced, and chairs scraped the polished stone floor as everyone stood.
The emperor entered and took his seat, followed by the crown prince. The doors closed, and the guards crossed their halberds before them; the council was officially in session, and by the emperor’s standing edict, the formalities usually in place in the royal presence were suspended. Anyone could speak without first being addressed by the emperor, and attendees were encouraged to be forthright without repercussions. As they took their seats, Emil hoped that the policy would prove true to its intent.
“By now you should all have read the reports of Captain Donnely and Lieutenant Jundis,” the emperor said as he looked around the table. “We had considered the mage threat to be contained, with the seamage imprisoned and the pyromage apparently dead or…contained, but it seems that the fates are toying with Us.”
A nervous chuckle from down the table was cut short by the emperor’s sharp gaze.
Lord Rinn, the emperor’s foreign advisor and Norris’ superior, was the first to speak. “Captain Donnely, where do you believe that this…city is heading?”
Donnely shrugged. “I have no idea, milord. Other than the stops we observed at Vulture and Plume Isles, it’s been moving steadily north. We did speculate that it drew power from the volcanoes; it brightened noticeably after each eruption.”
“The entire coastal mountain range is volcanic in origin,” Lord Rinn said nervously.
“But they’re old,” countered Master Upton, “whereas the Shattered Isles are active, at least sporadically.”
“So perhaps it will remain in the Shattered Isles,” ventured Rinn.
“We do not know where Akrotia is heading, or even its location right now,” the emperor said, “but We must assume is that it will continue north. That means that Our southern coastal towns may in danger, as well as…this city.”
Murmurs flitted among the attendees. Emil remained silent, watching the emperor watch his council. After a moment, the emperor raised his hand; silence was immediate.
“We will assume that Akrotia is heading north, and make preparations accordingly. The city of Tsing has been the seat of this empire for sixty generations. We do not intend to see it burn.” The emperor placed his hands flat upon the table, and raked his gaze around the faces. “We need a strategy to combat Akrotia, and We need it quickly.”
“It’s constructed of stone, like any fortress,” said Admiral Lewell, commander of the Tsing naval installation. “Naval bombardment with siege weapons should be sufficient to sink it.” He looked toward General Plank, who commanded the imperial army.
“I agree, Your Majesty,” Plank said with a firm nod.
“Master Tomlyn, your assessment of this strategy?”
The emperor’s naval architect fidgeted in his seat and frowned. “Akrotia isn’t a ship,” he insisted. “And it’s enchanted. We don’t know if it can be sunk.”
“Captain Donnely,” said Lewell, turning from Tomlyn in exasperation, “your assessment?”
“Lieutenant Jundis said that Captain Pendergast fired at it, though from his range, he could see no obvious damage. The difficulty with a ship-based bombardment is that any ship within firing range may also be in range of the city’s magic.”
“Captain Donnely!” chided Admiral Lewell. “With your reputation, I would have thought that you’d be first in line to take up this fight.”
Donnely fixed his eyes on the admiral’s. “With all due respect, sir, you haven’t seen this thing. It’s the size of an island, it controls the wind, and it burns like a furnace. Akrotia is not going to sit still while we all gather round and attack it. The city apparently set upon Iron Drake concealed by mist and darkness, then drew the ship in with winds so strong that they couldn’t escape under sweeps.”
“You speak as if it’s plotting against us!” said Rinn with a derisive smile.
“Let us all remember,” the emperor interrupted, “that there is a mage’s mind within this city. We cannot underestimate it. Captain Donnely, do you believe that a naval attack is futile?”
“No, Your Majesty,” the captain answered promptly. “I just think that we have to consider our strategy carefully. It may be that the Iron Drake was taken unawares. Also, they carried only minimal armament. A more formidable ship may have better luck.”
“To damage the city without succumbing to the same fate, you mean,” the emperor stipulated, but Donnely shook his head.
“No, Your Majesty. I mean before falling to the same fate as Iron Drake.”
“Your Majesty, if I may,” Commodore Henkle interjected, cutting off mutters from the admiral and general. “Captain Donnely and I discussed this issue extensively last night, and agreed that we need to test Akrotia’s capabilities. We should send our fastest ship to rendezvous with Admiral Joslan and determine where Akrotia is, what has ensued since Captain Donnely left the convoy, and what, if anything, the admiral may have learned about the city’s capabilities or vulnerabilities. We have fifteen warships at our immediate disposal, and if we send another fast ship, we might summon perhaps twenty-five more from the Northern Fleet.”
“Additional ships should be sent to warn the southern coastal towns,” Upton added. “The overland road is far too circuitous for riders to arrive quickly.”
“In defense of Tsing, Your Majesty,” said General Plank, “we can mount large shore batteries on the headlands, and my men can certainly assemble sturdier siege-caliber catapults to replace the smaller machines aboard the ships.” He cocked an eyebrow at Lewell, who nodded.
The emperor nodded, then fixed his eyes on the far end of the table. “Chief Constable Voya,” he said to the woman who had sat quietly throughout the discussion. “What is the feasibility of evacuating the city should these efforts fail?”
“It would be costly, Your Majesty, in both lives and money,” she replied. “There will be riots, especially in the Dregger’s and Downwind quarters. There are also logistical considerations. If we evacuate the nobles first, there will be looting, and if we evacuate the poor first, the nobles will scream bloody murder and confound our efforts. But whatever we do, we need to start soon. The longer we wait, the more panic and deaths there will be.”
Tynean Tsing sat quietly and stared at the lustrous surface of the table as if he sought support or answers from his reflection. Finally the emperor looked up again.
“Any other recommendations?”
“Your Majesty,” Emil said firmly. He had intentionally waited until the worst case scenarios had been presented. “I recommend that we consult the seamage.”
Several people shifted uneasily in their seats.
“The seamage,” the emperor said, narrowing his eyes at the count. “What do you propose?”
Emil felt the weight of every eye in the room on him. He swallowed, straightened, and presented his case. “I propose that we do whatever is necessary to prevent Akrotia from reaching this city, Your Majesty. We should negotiate with Cynthia Flaxal Brelak for her help in stopping this menace.”
The emperor’s stern gaze remained on Emil, and he raised his hand to silence the murmurs that had erupted around the table.
“The seamage is the ultimate cause of all this, Count Norris. You sat in this very room and recommended swift confrontation with military force. Now you recommend that We ask her for help?”
Emil looked the emperor in the eye. His next words might mean the end of his career…or worse. “My initial assessment of the seamage was wrong, Your Majesty. I allowed my personal feelings to interfere. As a result, I made the mistake of recommending a show of force in dealing with her. My decisions and actions, as much as anyone else’s, resulted in the deaths of over fifteen hundred sailors, and the loss of the Fire Drake and Clairissa. I have reiterated this in numerous letters and reports, yet I sit here, a free man, while Cynthia Flaxal Brelak is imprisoned, and her husband awaits the guillotine. I understand the motivations behind these sentences, but are we willing to risk the lives of thousands of imperial citizens in order to appease a few? We are facing a two-mile wide, fire-enchanted floating city able to control the winds. It has already destroyed one ship and immolated two islands. It is on the loose, and possibly heading here. The city of Tsing is the heart of the empire. Will we allow our heart to be destroyed so we can keep one scapegoat imprisoned? Humility, Your Majesty, seems a small price to pay.”
Emil sat back and lowered his eyes in deference to the emperor’s glare. Deadly silence reigned for
several long breaths, and the count reckoned that he had never been closer to a guillotine in his life.
“Your recommendation is noted, Count Norris.” The sovereign’s glare shifted to the naval officers. “Commodore Henkle, ready all warships currently in port for action. Send one of Our fastest ships to summon the Northern Fleet, another to Admiral Joslan to learn of his experiences with Akrotia, and a third to warn the southern coastal towns. Admiral Lewell, commandeer any vessels in the harbor that may aid in battle, and work with the general to arm them. General Plank, prepare the shore batteries as you suggested, and transfer one third of your troops to Chief Constable Voya’s command. Chief Constable, please begin preparations for an orderly evacuation, but make no public announcement yet. Master Upton, disperse your informants to seek out and report on any organized efforts to take advantage of an evacuation. And Ambassador Rinn, inform all foreign dignitaries of the pending threat and organize the necessary precautions to secure their safety. Do you all understand these orders?”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” they answered in unison.
“Good. Are there any questions?”
“Your Majesty,” Emil replied uncertainly. “What would you command of me?”
“You, Count Norris, will accompany Us to the Imperial Prison, where we will meet with the seamage and dine on a fine dish of crow.” The emperor glared at him again. “Is that understood, Count?”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Emil responded with a respectful nod. He ignored the scathing looks from some who passed him on their way out. He was not out of trouble, but the emperor had accepted his recommendation. That was what mattered.
≈
Chula watched silently as workers swarmed over Orin’s Pride like ants on a fallen mango, responding to Dura’s orders and encouragement as she supervised. The ship was ashore, propped up on chocks. A full third of her hull planks and the damaged mast had been removed. The job was progressing at a remarkable pace. He closed his eyes and the sounds and smells brought him back to the shipyard on Plume Isle. He sorrowed to think that he’d never see the place as he remembered it. The shipyard was destroyed, and the island overrun with imperials.
Scimitar War Page 31
