by Robert Brady
Ancenon looked at me skeptically. “Why?” he asked me.
I took a moment. Hectar walked to the vat of sulfur and poked at it.
“This burns, you know,” he said absently.
“Yes,” I said. “I know.”
“The poor will sometimes use it, but it stinks. We call it dragon’s breath.”
That seemed appropriate.
“I’ve shown you chemistry a few times,” I said to them.
They all nodded. Hectar moved to the other vats and canisters.
“I’m going to make a liquid developed by a people we called ‘the Byzantines’,” I said. “They could use this to defend themselves.”
“I’d think the stink of it alone would keep enemies away,” D’gattis said to me.
“Something like that,” I said.
“And you’ll show us how to use this chem-stree,” Dilvesh asked me.
I didn’t want to do that. It was more than just the idea of only me having it – this stuff was dangerous as hell to make or even to handle, and when the Byzantines used it they took themselves out as often as they got their enemies.
At the same time, once word got around that they had it; their enemies would retreat if they even saw sign of it. Their secret of it died, and their empire died soon after.
In fact, I was pretty sure I knew how to make it, and I was pretty sure other people did as well. Once you figured it out, it wasn’t the kind of thing you shared, because you could take out a battleship with enough of the stuff.
“I will share it with you as my allies,” I said, “if you will promise not to try to make it on your own, from what I tell you.”
“Because you don’t want to face it,” D’gattis conjectured.
“Because you don’t want to live in a world where the secret of this is out,” I said. “If just anyone could do what we’re about to do, well–you know how you don’t want to teach the barely gifted serious magic?”
“Yes,” D’gattis said.
“Imagine if everyone were barely gifted,” I said, “and imagine them all trying to use their gifts whenever the mood struck them, every time something didn’t go their way.”
Things progressed quietly from there.
On the first day of Eveave, while sitting my throne in the now-imperial throne room during court, explaining to a few collected Earls what it meant now that we were an Empire, I was informed by the captain of the Wolf Soldier guard they’d caught a bounty hunter trying to get at Lee. He wanted to take me with his squad of Wolf Soldiers to where they’d hidden her, and I nearly went with them. J’her had intervened with fifty Wolf Soldiers of his own and after a bloodbath in the throne room that got about thirty people killed, in addition to three of my Earls, I found out that, in fact, these Wolf Soldiers were the bounty hunters and they’d wanted to take me to one side and assassinate me.
As this was going on, another bounty hunter actually did go after Lee, and Nina took him out. Not bad for a girl pushing eleven years old – she’d used a spell to slow him down and then stabbed him with her daggers.
That night another Bounty Hunter tried to climb into my room through the open window and Karel of Stone had taken him out from the roof of one of the other towers in the palace. I had no idea what he was doing there and, when he didn’t want to tell me, I had a really hard time pressing the issue.
The Bounty Hunters’ Guild had claimed the only reason they couldn’t get at me was because of Shela. In fact, I had more allies than that. For me to say I was in so far over my head I could only dream of the sky was an understatement. There were a lot of people keeping me alive, and I was having a harder and harder time justifying why they were doing it.
So in the middle of Eveave, leaving Hectar behind me and taking Dilvesh and a thousand Wolf Soldiers with me, I jumped up on Blizzard’s back and rode out toward Andurin, via the new city of Metz. I left Lee and Nina under Hectar and Karel’s care, and actually prayed to War for their safety.
My god had been oddly silent. I had to think the crap I pulled was exactly what he expected of me, or he needed to see me humbled. I could believe either one at this point.
Blizzard hadn’t gotten a good ride for too long and he was almost unmanageable now. I had to break away from the main army a few times and just let him cut loose, which really freaked out the Wolf Soldier guard, but there was nothing for it. Pounding the earth on my giant stallion did a lot to clear my head and resurrect my thinking, and I know he enjoyed it.
On the sixth day of the month of Weather we rode in to Andurin at the head of a full millennium of Wolf Soldiers, Arath and Nantar beside me Dilvesh left behind at Metz. I wasn’t surprised to learn a Druid could really speed the construction of a city, and I leant the Free Legion some of my more experienced Uman cutters, trained by Dwarves. The former were fully engaged in the construction of Wisex now, and a report by fast ships and then fast riders let me know that, since I’d spoken with the Andaran merchants four months ago. Of course, the report was a month old, and the message couldn’t have been delivered before the middle of Adriam’s month, so in fact Wisex could be a pile of smoking bodies and I wouldn’t know any better right now, however one did what one could with the tools one has.
In the here and now, a mile from the gates of Andurin, Groff met me with none other than Ceberro on horseback and a retinue of one hundred Eldadorian Regulars. Kind of large for a personal guard and pathetically small to stand up to one thousand Wolf Soldiers, however I wasn’t here to depose him and, if he didn’t know that, I didn’t know Groff.
Ceberro’s presence was anyone’s guess. The Duke eyed me from the back of a white stallion about a hand shorter than mine. It snorted and pawed the earth on sight of mine, but that wasn’t uncommon. Blizzard, being Blizzard, ignored him.
“Your Grace,” I said, and nodded to Groff, then turned to Ceberro. “Your Grace,” I said again.
“Your Imperial Majesty,” Groff said to me – the first one, actually. Ceberro grinned what I almost wanted to call evilly and repeated the title, bowing in the saddle.
“Word precedes me,” I said to them. Nantar chuckled at my side.
“Earl Arath of Metz!” Groff said, a grin splitting the narrow features of his face. “I was not expecting you! How goes our latest stronghold.”
“Better now,” Arath said, looking sideways at me. “I’ve gained a Druid and a dozen Dwarf-trained Uman. My city could be habitable in two years.”
“So soon!” Ceberro exclaimed. “Angador under young Tartan won’t have more than a garrison for three more years.”
Arath turned to me. “I could part with the Uman if they train more like themselves. Maybe…six months?”
“Do it,” I said, then turned to Groff. “You should send your own men as well to learn from them.”
“Your Imperial Majesty is ever gracious with his knowledge,” the Duke said. “In keeping with that, I welcome you and your… significant military might to my humble city.”
I smiled. “These warriors are here to take command of the Sea Wolves under construction in your wharves,” I said. “A few of them are what I call Construction Builders, or Sea Bees, and will spend their time under your command, building a steam plant.”
“We’ve heard of this magic,” Ceberro said. The sun glistened on his bald scalp. His helmet had been clipped to his belt and he wore his armor tight in the warming spring day. “You’ve trained your own warriors to work it?”
“It isn’t–” I began, but really, what’s the point? They were convinced this was magic and they weren’t going to understand it any other way.
“It’s what you call, ‘Chem-stree,’” I said. “Apply heat to water and you can do a lot of things with it.”
“Like make tea,” Groff said, nodding.
“Like make tea,” I agreed. “When you’re ready, I am.”
Groff eyed the Millennium behind me. “I’m not sure–well, I mean, your Imperial Majesty…”
That was as nervous as I�
�d ever seen the Duke. Hospitality was taken very seriously by Eldadorian nobles–you were never supposed to be unable to put up someone from the peerage. I got my first Earldom because of that.
“These warriors need to toughen up,” I said. I turned to Nantar. “Scarlet Nantar, would you take command and have this Millennium construct our ‘small city’ on the plains, a safe distance from the city.”
“Good luck,” Ceberro said. I turned to him, as did everyone else. “The moment the commons see the famous Wolf Soldiers, they’ll flock to your barricades.”
Groff agreed with a wince. “It’s true, your Imperial Majesty,” he said. “People are bored at the end of the winter months. With the first plantings still weeks away, they’ll come running to see Wolf Soldiers.”
“A series of parades, then?” Arath suggested. “Perhaps some war games?”
“I could have my Sarandi here in a week,” Nantar drawled, a smile curling under his beard.
Nantar had become very proud of his own elite troops, and he was dying to match them against mine.
Normally I’d be itching to do the same, but there just wasn’t time. “The parades are a good idea,” I said, “but the Sea Bees have work to do and the rest will be supporting them. As well, we’re going to be outfitting ships.
“Next time,” Nantar assured me. He’d learned that expression from me.
He pulled the reins on his horse and gave her a kick, and he was off to the Major in charge of the Millennium. Groff and Ceberro turned their horses around and his Regulars lined up around us.
We marched into the city, to an actual cheering crowd. Blizzard started picking up his hooves as if he knew what was going on. A few threw spring flowers or bits of parchment with ‘He Conquers!’ written on them, and those who could get close enough, which were surprisingly many, rapped our armor with a closed fist.
A Bounty Hunter didn’t try to kill me, so I guess that’s good news.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Negotiations
Groff’s throne room looked a lot like my own, meaning it looked like any other throne room on Fovea, as the Cheyak had designed them more than a thousand years before.
A long hall, a gallery on the right hand side, an elevated throne at one end and double doors bound in brass on the other with a deep, blue carpet running down the center. His floor was some kind of polished granite which looked really nice but was hard to walk across without slipping, and the pillars running down the center alongside the carpet were plain, not groaning Dwarves like mine.
Where I had a platform to one side for my Oligarchs, he had one for his son and Alekennen, who was already married to Groff’s son.
“Well, look at this young lady!” I said as I greeted her. She did a perfect curtsy and then took the back of my hand in hers and kissed it. I’d never seen anyone do that before. She pressed the back of my hand to her cheek and looked into my eyes.
“A nation grieves that you are separated from your Shela, your Imperial Majesty,” she informed me. “Your love for her is the stuff of legends, of songs.”
Groff ran a much more formal court than mine. It was rubbing off on Alekennen already. I’d worry for her except for the look in her husband’s eyes when they followed her. Young love is unmistakable, and he wasn’t trying to hide it. Groff saw me watching them and smiled but didn’t say anything.
The Lady Jameen sat in attendance in the gallery, her eyes never leaving Ceberro. I didn’t see Shellene anywhere, but then again that didn’t mean she wasn’t here.
Groff conducted a long, droning court. Every single decree was a speech, every single question took minutes to ask and longer to answer. A few of the plaintiffs seeking either justice or favors looked furtively to me, but probably because they knew I was richer.
It took all morning and a good part of the afternoon. From there we went to an early meal because we were all starving. After feeding mostly on preserved fruits and vegetables and fish, we finally convened in Groff’s approximation of my war room.
He’d picked a round room, not rectangular. He’d lined the walls with cork and then covered the cork with black slate chalk boards like mine, as well. He’d set a main and a subsidiary table, and his idea was that idea began at the subsidiary table and could be percolated up to the main table.
Wow. I was surprised once again this guy didn’t click when he walked. He’d never met a bureaucracy he didn’t embrace.
We sat down on our second day here with Nantar and Arath, Groff and his son, and Ceberro, all crowded around the main table, with no one at the second table. A map was held down with weights on the corners in front of us, facing Groff. I sat opposite him.
“We convene this meeting in order that we might discuss the advance and the activities of his Imperial Majesty’s projects in our wharves,” Groff began, looking one after the other of us in the eye.
Ceberro grinned a wry grin and caught my eyes with his. I felt my scar twitch. If he was going to go on like this, Groff was going to drive me crazy and I think the other Duke knew it. Arath sighed and leaned back in his chair, I leaned forward in mine.
“If we could dispense with the formalities, your Grace?” I asked him.
Groff’s face took on an expression of complete surprise. I could only think that even Glennen had always indulged him in his own city.
He opened up his hands before him. “You have all of our attention, your Imperial Majesty,” he said.
This time I couldn’t miss the air of contempt woven into the words. Congratulations, bone-head. You pissed off another Duke.
Ceberro must be loving this.
“It’s my fault,” Arath said, coming to my rescue. “I must return to my city, now that I have the Uman artisans from the capitol.”
“Of course, your Excellence,” Groff said, then his eyes squinted as he added, “with my own artisans, of course, as promised.”
“Of course, your Grace,” he said. “But, for right now, the ships in the wharves…”
“The ship builders in your wharves,” I said, trying to take back the meeting, “should be able to produce seven hulls before the month of War.”
“We used to say ‘seven masts,’” Ceberro chimed in, “but it appears you’ve changed that, your Grace.”
“Your ships take a long time to build, and a lot of wood to build them,” Groff complained. “We’re buying timber both from the south of Sental and Angador, and using it almost as quickly as we can turn out boards.”
“The steam plant will help with that,” I informed him. “In a month you’ll have high-speed saws that can reduce a tree to a pile of boards in a few minutes.”
“That would be something to see,” Ceberro said, “however a kiln can still only cure a board at one speed. Won’t we simply be transferring the backlog from saw mill to the kiln?”
“I can build more kilns,” Groff said. “However, when this project is over, their sitting idle doesn’t serve me. At least, not well.”
“A central location for our kilns makes more sense,” Nantar chimed in.
All eyes turned to Arath.
He sighed. “I see no problem with more kilns being built in Metz,” he said. “Adriam knows I have the room and peasants who can use the work.”
“They are not inexpensive,” Ceberro commented.
Nantar grinned into his beard, Arath and I with him. This project was on the Outpost X payroll, and Outpost X was doing fine.
“Is the wealth of the Free Legion that extensive?” Groff asked the three of us.
I forced my face back to being plain. “We’ve had some very good years,” Nantar said.
“The war between Sental and Volkhydro had to have benefitted you,” Ceberro commented, not looking at any of us.
You have no idea, I thought.
“And your Wolf Soldiers will man these ships?” Groff got back on track.
“Yes,” I informed him. “I wouldn’t strip your garrison for the Navy. A training team will be here from Eldador the Port
by week’s end. You may deduct the cost of housing them from your taxes to the State.”
Groff lowered his head. “Your Imperial Majesty is too kind,” he said.
“Glennen would make us pay for his troops in our cities ourselves, even when he was just moving them,” Ceberro commented.
Wish I’d know that. Too late now, though.
“How many warriors to a ship?” Arath asked me. He’d clearly done the math.
“One hundred, with room for one hundred more,” I informed him.
Several eyebrows rose. By local standards, that was a hell of a compliment. The biggest merchant ships they had now could move fifty if they didn’t have to go too far. It took the whole fishing fleet out of Tonkin to move my Wolf Soldiers one time from Eldador to the Silent Isle, and the whole Fovean Shipping Company to move them back with the Trenboni on our tails.
“Based on these ships’ performance of late,” Ceberro said, referring to the defeat of the prototype ship on the Straights of Deception, “I fail to see the justification in gold and lives.”
I nodded. “That will become clear, your Grace,” I assured him. “One other thing, if you don’t mind.”
“You have all of our attention,” Groff assured me.
“I’ll be sending what will seem to you to be a very strange, brass fitting for some of these ships,” I informed him. “Along with this will come vats of cast iron which will be sealed. You will want to examine these.”
Groff and Ceberro exchanged glances.
I leaned forward. “You must not, not for any reason, not under any circumstances. Not for a moment, not a quick look, nothing.”
“Your Imperial Majesty!” Groff exclaimed
“This is extremely irregular,” Ceberro assured me.
Even Arath looked concerned. Of course, he had his own city now.
“This is irregular,” I assured them. “However, it is imperative to my – to Shela’s safety that we have these fittings and these containers onboard these ships, and if you open one of these containers, even for a moment, then what is inside it will kill you and, very likely, destroy the city.”
