Scimitar War

by Chris A. Jackson

“What’s a bloody-be-damned island doin’ dere?” Chula reached for his own glass, but his first mate preempted his action.

  “That’s not an island, Captain.” Not many things scared the stolid first mate, but Chula heard true dread in Horace’s voice.

  “Akrotia!” Chula said, his blood turning cold.

  “Bloody hells, it followed us!”

  Chula raised his glass. Akrotia loomed about eight miles away, and to its west he spied the flock of six white sails that had caught the lookout’s eye. The ships were hull down, one much smaller than the others. “Dat’s gotta be a fleet of warships sailin’ a picket.” He slapped his glass shut. He’d lost one ship already to Akrotia; he’d be damned to all Nine Hells if he’d lose another. “Hoist de tops’ls, Horace! Set a course of zero one zero, right fer Tsing! I want ever’ stitch she’ll fly aloft and trimmed smartly!”

  “Aye, Captain!”

  Orin’s Pride turned north and her crew scrambled to pile on canvas. The wind was steady and, with sails full, the ship heeled and surged forward. The newly cleaned hull glided through the water, and their speed increased to a steady twelve knots. Akrotia faded in the distance, but Chula couldn’t keep from looking over his shoulder.

  ≈

  *Seamage Flaxal Brelak lives, Trident Holder,* Chaser reported, fluttering his gills as he struggled to breathe, sign and swim all at once. Shelly swam beside him, having elected to come with him to deliver Tailwalker’s message. She had kept pace with him the whole way, which was impressive for any mer. *She met with us. She knows of Akrotia. The emperor of the landwalkers has imprisoned her and her mate for the loss of his ships, but she has bargained with him. She will fight Akrotia, and he will reduce their imprisonment.*

  *Reduce?* Broadtail’s colors flushed dark with anger. *I would think he would offer to free them for her aid.*

  *She signed that he would not.* Chaser flipped his tail and turned himself sideways to sign more clearly. *But she also signed that we should prepare. She will need our help. She is going to meet with the landwalkers who built Akrotia, and hopes that they will tell her how to destroy it.*

  *The landwalkers who built Akrotia still live?* the trident holder signed, flushing pale. *I had no idea landwalkers lived so long.*

  *She said that some do. Evidently, there is more than one type of landwalker.*

  *Well, the land is a strange place if there are creatures who live more generations than I have seasons. It is good that she is going to sign with these venerable landwalkers. They must have much wisdom after living so long.*

  *That is what Tailwalker signed to her. She only signed that she hoped so, for all our sakes.*

  *Yes, let us all hope so.* Broadtail swam for a few hundred tail flips without another sign, then rolled back to Chaser and told him, *Go back and sign to her that the mer will fight with her. We will follow her direction. Tell her the landwalker warships have attacked Akrotia. They even managed to damage it with their rock throwers, but it broke free of our cables and very nearly burned their ships to cinders. We helped them escape. Tell her we will aid them if they wish to attack again.*

  *Is that all, Trident Holder?* Chaser asked, not looking forward to the long swim back north, but willing to start right away.

  *No, Chaser. Tell her also that we will help her any way we can. If she wants us to convince the landwalker emperor to release her and her husband, we can do it. He depends on the sea, and we control it.*

  *I will, Trident Holder.* He signaled his approval and turned to Shelly. *Will you swim back with me, or is your tail too tired?*

  *My tail is ready if yours is, Chaser,* she signed, grinning a challenge at him and flipping ahead just to prove her claim.

  *Let us swim then!* he signed, flipping past her with a flutter of his gills. She flipped her own tail and was beside him in moments, holding his pace without the slightest strain. It was nice having her there, he decided, rolling over to watch her swim. She looked over and saw him watching, and her colors brightened. She rolled in a spiral, showing off her muscular tail, and he thought again that it was very nice indeed having her swimming beside him.

  ≈

  Cynthia took a seat at the council table with a knot of apprehension forming in her stomach. There were several empty seats, and as yet no emperor and no elves. The two days since her release had flown by. Nights she spent snuggled with Kloe in a comfortable bed at Count Norris’ home, her guards standing in shifts outside her door. Aside from her visit with Feldrin this morning, her waking hours had been spent signing with Tailwalker, discussing what she knew of the upper levels of Akrotia, and what he knew of the lower. Still, there was too little information to formulate an attack strategy. She had been relying on the elves to shed more light on the issue, but they weren’t here.

  “Well, Admiral Lewell, how are the port defenses shaping up?” she asked, more as an effort to quell her nervousness than any real interest.

  Lewell scowled at her. “I report to the emperor, Mrs. Flaxal Brelak. You shall hear what I have to say when I tell his majesty.”

  “Okay,” she said, but the snub stung. Cynthia didn’t care if they didn’t like her, but it would be nice if they’d show a little gratitude for her contribution to this fight. Without her, they’d have to combat Akrotia with ships alone. That would be costly; ships would burn, and men would die. With her aid, the mer and the grace of Odea, they might just have a chance. A little common courtesy didn’t seem too much to ask.

  Cynthia was still trying to control her anger when the door behind her opened. Even before she could turn, it seemed that the room suddenly brightened, as if the sun had broken through to shine through golden-hued windows. A light breeze wafted through the room, bringing with it the scent of trees and flowers. The elves had arrived.

  Ambassador Troielstian entered first and took a seat. Slowly, as if reluctant, the two elves came in. They wore long robes of gray-green material gathered loosely at their waists. The hoods of the cloaks were thrown back, revealing features framed by hair like spun gold, and so pale and delicately chiseled that they might have been carved of marble. Luminous, almond shaped eyes shifted in color as they swept the room. Ghelfan and Ambassador Troielstian were both strikingly attractive, but now she could see the true elvish blood their features only hinted at.

  The elves remained impassive as they inspected the assembly. Only when their gazes reached Cynthia did they linger, as if they recognized something in her that the others lacked. She found herself unable to turn away from their scrutiny. Finally their attention drifted past, and she shifted uncomfortably.

  The elves ignored the empty seats next to their ambassador, but stood calmly, facing the entire room. This put them behind Cynthia, and she found it difficult to turn away and sit properly. She felt as if they were staring at her, their extraordinary eyes burning holes in her back. At least she was not the only one who felt uncomfortable; everyone shot furtive glances toward the new arrivals.

  She gave a start when the other door opened and the emperor’s entourage entered. Everyone stood as the herald made his announcement. The emperor took his seat, acknowledging the elves with a solemn nod, while his bodyguard stared at them with suspicion. Only the crown prince seemed worse than Cynthia at concealing his awe, staring openly at the elves.

  “If it pleases Your Majesty,” said Ambassador Troielstian as he indicated his kinsmen, “may I introduce Xoihe and Tierl, from the elvish lands. I have briefed them on the situation. They are two of the many designers of Akrotia, and have deigned to travel here to provide whatever information might be requested.”

  “We are honored by the presence of two of the Elder Race,” said the emperor, “and avidly seek their counsel in facing this unprecedented menace to Our empire. We have only days before Akrotia’s arrival.”

  “Your pardon, Emperor Tynean.” The elf’s voic
e sang with hidden music. Cynthia felt giddy with it. She turned to face Xoihe, and held her breath in anticipation of his next words. “The menace you face is not Akrotia.”

  Confusion reigned on faces around the table, and Cynthia caught her breath. Eyes drifted toward her, some glowering in accusation; she was the one who had told them about Akrotia.

  “Akrotia was the name of the seamage who was the first heart of the city,” Tierl explained, her voice no less enchanting than her companion’s. “He and the city became one, but now the city has a new heart, does it not?”

  “It does,” Cynthia said, her own voice sounding harsh to her ears. “His name is Edan.”

  “So the city is now Edan.” Tierl nodded, her face unreadable.

  “We’re here to discuss how to fight this thing, not what to call it,” Admiral Lewell scoffed, and Cynthia stiffened.

  “But how can one formulate a plan of action when one does not know what one is taking action against?” Xoihe asked, apparently unperturbed by the admiral’s rudeness. “Akrotia had vastly different capabilities than does Edan. You must configure your strategy to accommodate the city that is, not the city that was. No?”

  “Yes,” Cynthia said, meeting the elf’s remarkable eyes and nearly losing her train of thought. She fought to focus her mind on the issue at hand. “Edan was gifted with mastery of both fire and wind, but he doesn’t have any connection to the sea. In fact, it terrifies him.”

  “You see?” said the elf with a thin smile, his enigmatic gaze sweeping the room. “This is not Akrotia. Edan was ill-suited for union with the city, and thus, should be vulnerable.”

  “But vulnerable how?” Commodore Henkle asked. “Whatever you want to call it, this thing has erupted volcanoes to destroy two entire islands. If it does that here, Tsing will be immolated.”

  “Is this area volcanically active, Emperor Tynean?” Tierl asked.

  “Not to Our knowledge,” the sovereign answered.

  “Then I do not think you need to fear a volcano. Fire, of course, is a threat, and if Edan comes close enough, the city is at risk. You should endeavor to stop Edan before he arrives here.”

  “We didn’t need you to tell us that,” Admiral Lewell muttered.

  Though the elves ignored his comment, the emperor did not. “Admiral! You will keep your disrespectful comments to yourself, or you will leave this room!”

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” Lewell replied, his face flushing crimson.

  “Stopping the city is indeed Our intent,” the emperor said. “You said that Akro—Edan would be vulnerable. Vulnerable to what?”

  “Vulnerable to his fears, of course. To that over which he has no control.”

  “The sea,” Cynthia said.

  “Precisely.” Xoihe withdrew a long roll of parchment from his robe and extended it to her. “These are simplified renderings of the city’s structure.”

  There were four pages, and as Cynthia unrolled them she could see that each represented a different perspective: two in profile, one from above and one from below. She spread out the beautiful renderings for all to see.

  “We designed the city to interact optimally with a seamage, taking advantage of those skills inherent to sea magic. Without the sea’s aid, Edan’s mobility will be severely impeded. Similarly, since he cannot wield fire underwater, the lower structures are accessible…to a point. He can, as you tell it, heat the stone of his structure, and radiant heat may cause the surrounding water to become dangerously hot.”

  Cynthia analyzed the drawings, comparing them with her memories of the city. “I didn’t see the city from below. These structures were built to house the mer?”

  “Yes, among other things,” Tierl stepped forward and indicated the deep central aperture surrounded by several smaller structures on the underside. “Water circulated through these channels at the will of the seamage, to both cleanse the city and to propel it in any direction.”

  “It looks top heavy,” Master Tomlyn said, pointing to the towering structures of the upper city.

  “The city is stable,” Tierl said. “The upper structures are less robust than those below. The hull and lower structures are considerably thicker and heavier, to withstand the greater pressures inherent in water relative to air. However, if sufficient weight was removed from the deepest structures, the city’s stability would be compromised. Additional instability might be induced by poorly distributed water encroachment.”

  “Flooding,” muttered Tomlyn.

  “When I saw the city,” Cynthia said, “it had a significant growth of coral, and the mer reported other growth on the underside. When we arrived, the mer had flooded many of the lower chambers, raising the waterline another three feet or so. But Edan didn’t like even stepping in water, so he’s probably boiled it all away by now. His magic lit the runes that were inscribed throughout the city, and they radiated heat like an oven.”

  “This is confirmed by the survivors from Iron Drake,” Commodore Henkle agreed. “They said that the heat was blistering, even at a distance. Iron Drake burst into flames when it got too close.”

  The two elves looked at one another, but offered no explanation.

  “How fragile are these lower structures?” Cynthia asked, urging the discussion back to the matter of the city’s stability.

  “They are not so delicate as they appear. The stonework is designed to withstand the violence of a storm at sea. But they are more fragile than the hull itself.”

  “What about the magic that Ghelfan said was used in the city’s construction?”

  “The magics,” Xoihe said, “act to ward off the ravages of time. They do not strengthen the stone beyond its normal limits.”

  “So if I could break off several towers, and remove the coral growth from one side only, what effect would it have on the overall stability?”

  “It would shift the center of mass and decrease stability. But even removal of all the undersea structures would not capsize the city,” Tierl said. “Further inducement would be necessary.”

  “By further inducement, you mean…what?” Henkle asked.

  “Water,” Cynthia said, nodding to herself as she formed a picture in her mind. “We need to breach the hull, and remove the underwater structures from the opposite side. That will cause the city to list and take on water. Edan’s afraid of water, and he’ll close off that section, preventing the water from settling to the lower levels. That will increase the list.” She looked back to the elves. “How much list before it rolls over?”

  “We cannot say exactly. There are too many unknown variables in the equation.”

  “But it will roll over,” Tomlyn put in, standing to peer at the drawings, which seemed to fascinate him as much as Cynthia. “As a wild guess, I’d say forty-five degrees.” He looked at Cynthia, then the elves.

  “Perhaps.” The two elves looked at one another, then back to Cynthia. They shrugged in unison, their faces unchanged.

  “And if it does capsize?” the emperor asked.

  “It may float for some time, but the failsafe devices do not function when inverted. If the hull is has been breached, it will sink quickly. If the water is sufficiently deep, Edan will be destroyed.”

  “The city or the man?” Cynthia whispered to herself.

  “Both.” Tierl reached out and placed one slim hand on Cynthia’s arm. The elf’s touch was cool, and the fragrance of earth and growing things suffused the air between them. “They are indivisible.”

  Cynthia met the elf’s gaze, and the sorrow she saw there threatened to break her heart. She saw the truth in their eyes; she had to kill Edan in order to save Tsing…and her family.

  “Can you do it?” the emperor asked, breaking Cynthia’s reverie.

  “I…believe so, Your Majesty. With the help of the mer and your fleet, we sho
uld be able to develop a workable strategy. I recommend that we start as soon as possible, while Edan is in deep water. If he realizes what we’re trying to do and grounds himself in shallow water, the city won’t sink. “

  “But it would be immobilized,” General Plank said.

  “Until a spring tide or a hurricane lifts him off.” She shook her head. “Better to do it in deep water. Then it’s done for good.”

  “We agree.” The emperor stood and all followed suit. He nodded to the elves. “Thank you for your counsel. We are in your debt.”

  “There is no debt, Emperor Tynean,” Xoihe said regretfully. “The city is our creation. We were seduced by a dream of unifying the races of sea and land, and when this failed, we should have taken steps to ensure that the city was destroyed. We did not think that another would take Akrotia’s place. We were wrong.”

  “Very well.” The emperor turned to the rest of the attendees. “Commodore Henkle, continue to ready the fleet, and formulate a strategy with Mrs. Flaxal Brelak. Coordinate with the merfolk through her.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.” The commodore bowed.

  “This council is adjourned.”

  As the emperor departed, a buzz of conversation arose among the council attendants as they began to discuss how best to make use of this new information. Cynthia turned to the elves. “Pardon me, but I have another question.”

  “Of course, Seamage Flaxal Brelak,” said Tierl.

  Cynthia was taken aback; only the mer addressed her as Seamage. “What might happen if two people were in the crystal chamber when the city was activated?”

  The two elves looked at one another, their normally tranquil expressions now puzzled, then back to her.

  “We do not know, Seamage Flaxal Brelak. The enchantment was not designed to accommodate more than one. But then, it also was not designed to accommodate a pyromage.” Tierl gestured with her hands, a mer sign meaning, *How strange.* “If both were incorporated into the lattice, their minds would be joined. We know that Edan was incorporated, because his magic infuses the structure. Who was the other?”