by Ryan McCall
“And I look forward to seeing you become the queen you always deserved to be,” he replied. She kissed the top of his head.
“Goodbye Emperor Lawrence, you’re going to do great things.”
She pulled her robe back on and left the room, nothing remaining but her scent. He lay on his bed and breathed it in, recapturing every moment of the night.
Chapter 35
“This fucking boy-emperor thinks he can pull the wool over my eyes, does he?” shouted the king. Cyrus Domik the Second, King of Galria was in a fury. Spittle flew out of his mouth and his brown eyes were twisted tight. His grey-streaked, black beard was quivering and he flung the piece of paper back at his chief of staff, Ulas Katanin.
The king’s chief advisor was half a decade older than his monarch, but he did not look it. Ulas had soft skin on his face and had aged gently. He kept his grey hair well-trimmed and was clean shaven.
The king by contrast had a huge mess of a beard. His hair, which had once been as black as night, had an unhealthy pale shade. Lines from stress coated the king’s face and his eyes would occasionally flit around in an uncontrollable manner. Ulas suspected his king had a medical condition, but none of the royal physicians were able to improve him.
What Ulas was certain of, was that the king had a psychological condition. He was deathly afraid of the outdoors. This hadn’t been much of a problem during his youth, he had been a sickly child and stayed in the palace of Urdov.
But upon ascending to the throne his agoraphobia and paranoia had increased exponentially. He never left the palace, the last time had been more than three months ago. And when he did he refused to leave the comfort of the royal carriage; even taking meetings within it. Not that that was an issue, it was large enough to fit a dozen people inside.
The king sat back on his throne. It was a massive chair, coated in silver and gems taken from the Klehov mines in the north.
Ulas picked up the telegram and folded it. It had come from Alkos City late last night, a message from their emperor. It stated that they had put considerable resources into catching the Rossiv’s assassin. He was travelling south to the border and requested a meeting with an envoy from Urdov. He offered to treat with anyone they deemed to send.
Ulas hadn’t been surprised at the telegram. Right now Alkos was politically isolated. An assassination of a foreign envoy would look bad for any nation. Aside from the Talfey, Alkos had few friends. No nation wanted to take the side of someone who had allowed a diplomatic representative to be murdered.
Ulas had penned the Galrian response to the assassination himself. The king had wanted to immediately declare war, but Ulas had urged caution. The assassination was horrible, but even he wasn’t willing to believe the Alkons would make such a bold move. Without evidence that the Alkon government was responsible, Ulas didn’t want to see Galria dragged into a needless war.
Cyrus had other ideas though and a good many of his advisors and military agreed with him. Already, the royal armies were mobilizing near Nesjovo and Kavak. The forts along the Alkon border had been placed on alert. Even most of the troops in the north had been pulled back to the capital. While agorid activity had been low for many years, he was not eager to find out what would happen if they tested the defenses at a time like this.
The king had placed a list of demands upon the Alkon government in the event that the assassin was not brought to justice. These demands had been so outrageous that Ulas had no doubt they would be rejected. He suspected his king wanted to see happen.
“Well Ulas, do you believe the Alkons will give us justice?” asked the king, and looked at him with his wild eyes.
“Based on everything Lord Rhostov has told us, no I do not.” The Galrian spymaster, Jaromir Rhostov was also in the room. He tipped his head at the mention of his name. Ulas didn’t like the man, he held every secret in the realm in his hands. A number of prominent people had been forced to resign or bend to his desires due to the secrets he held. And he always knew far more than he ever told, even to the king.
“Then what would be the point of even bothering to treat with the emperor. He’s going to waste our time and pander, but those MacRaths have always looked down on us. We should hand him our declaration of war and be done with it.” The king was still bent on war with Alkos.
“Your Highness, I am as eager for justice as you are,” said Ulas, trying to placate him.
“And well you should be. The Alkons have sneered over us for far too long. They are jealous of our rise to power and this is nothing more than an attempt to stifle our national rights.” The king’s voice had risen in volume.
Ulas did agree that Alkos was jealous, but did not think they would go about it by assassinating an official envoy. Nonetheless we have to defend ourselves he thought. Attacks like this cannot go unanswered.
Then General Timur Zhillin spoke up. “Your Highness. I wonder if this might not present an opportunity for us.” The general was the leading voice for the war-hawk faction in the royal army.
The king looked intrigued. “Explain general.”
“Well our plans for war with Alkos have always suffered under the issue of a stalemate on the border. Both sides have considerable defensive fortifications and our navies are as distant from one another as not to not affect the initial battles.”
Inconsequential to the initial battles would be the right word thought Ulas. Galria had a tiny coastal region on the far west, the province of Uconia. In fact the entire Galrian Navy had been formed from Uconian ships. Uconia was the only Galrian province with a coast and they had practiced seafaring for hundreds of years. But it was still only a fraction of the size of the Imperial Alkon Navy.
A force so powerful on the ocean, the only ones that could match them were the Kordatians and the Silunders, and that would only be if they were working together.
Minakaya could match them as well, but they had never fought each other. Minakaya tended to steer clear of continental affairs and none of its interests had ever conflicted with the Alkon Empire.
“I would recommend we mobilize our entire force and prepare for Alkos failing to meet our demands,” continued the general.
“I agree,” said the king. “Make your preparations general. Ulas, I will agree to send an envoy to treat with Emperor Lawrence.”
He is finally seeing sense thought Ulas in relief.
“But this does not mean I will bow down like a dog. Send a low level man from Rossiv’s office. General Zhillin, implement your plan. If our demands are not met, we will show the Alkons the price of treating my official representatives like this.”
“At once, Your Highness,” replied the general. For a brief moment Ulas thought he saw a smirk of satisfaction on the general’s face. There was one far too eager for war. Zhillin had become a national hero for his victory in the war against Tal Feros. Victories always boosted the ego and pride of military men. The general stepped back in line with the other military commanders.
“Your Highness,” said Ulas. “The ambassadors from Ze Feros and Silund are waiting to meet with you in the Green Chamber.”
“Ah, good.” The king stood from his throne and walked towards Ulas. “Let’s hear what our allies have to say on this matter. After you’ve heard from them, I expect you’ll be more in agreement about dealing to the Alkons with force.”
Ulas followed the king out of the throne room and down the darkened corridor. They were soon outside and had a view of the capital as they walked. The city was ancient, founded several thousand years ago by the Kaltian tribes migrating south. It sat on the shore of Lake Boar, a body of water so large it stretched all the way to Ze Feros. Both nations maintained naval patrols on the surface.
The city had long been the capital of the nation of Trusha and become the Galrian capital after Cyrus the First, the current king’s grandfather, had unified the Galrian states. It had survived attacks by Tal Feros, Ze Feros and even agorids. The palace was located at the southern end of the city, the oldest
parts in the north, near the river mouth.
The royal guards opened the doors to the Green Chamber for them. The chamber was named for its color and extravagant decorations. The ceiling was coated in green paint and emeralds sparkled here and there, stuck to the ceiling and walls.
Ulas thought it ridiculous to have precious stones lying around unguarded. But when a thief had been caught trying to remove emeralds from the room, the king had his arms and legs broken. Then he had the man tossed into a pit with starving boars and watched as he was eaten alive. No one ever tried to steal emeralds from the Green Chamber again.
Seated at opposite ends of the large wooden table were the ambassadors from Ze Feros and Silund, the elf, Arin jol’Kolsan and the kitsune, Kagami, respectively.
Arin was dressed in simple fare for a Zefey, brown pants and a yellow jacket. Normally the elves preferred gaudier outfits. Ulas suspected he was trying his best to fit in, but he looked uncomfortable. Ulas wondered who he had wronged to get this assignment; while they were allies, the Zefey disliked dealing with Galrians in face to face.
Kagami wore blue clothes and a layer of light armor. He was not in danger, as a foreign dignitary he was guaranteed safety.
I wonder how much such guarantees are worth anymore. It didn’t help Atoli.
He wondered if the armor was a reaction to the assassination. The Silunders were a cautious people and Ulas had never seen Kagami wear armor when meeting with the king before.
The king took a seat at the head of the table and Ulas sat next to him. “I am glad that both of you could come to this meeting at such short notice,” said Cyrus, his voice far more pleasant than it had been in his throne room.
“Of course, Your Highness,” replied Arin, while Kagami silently lowered his head.
“I would like to thank you for all the support you have both shown Galria and its people during this trying time. I appreciate that you are willing to stand with me in the face of injustice.”
“The killing of an envoy, particularly one as high as your foreign minister is a serious matter,” said Kagami. “The Banking Council of Silund supports your position. However we are not yet convinced that the Alkon government is responsible for this crime. If you declare war, Your Highness, Silund will remain neutral. Our treaty is defensive in nature. Silund will only aid you if you are attacked. Without a sufficient casus bali, I cannot promise you that my government will join you in war.”
Ulas had expected as much. Silund was small, but it was a rich nation and had a wide expanse of holdings, including colonies in Vinacia and Kordatia. The Cholsa colony in Kordatia gave it a steady flow of wealth via its iron and silver mines. The plutocratic rulers of the nation had not made themselves wealthy by hastily jumping into wars.
The king said nothing, Ulas had warned him to expect this answer from Kagami. Cyrus looked over at the Zefey ambassador.
“Your Highness, Ze Feros finds the crime committed by Alkos outrageous. If Alkos does not present the criminals responsible and refuses to acquiesce to the list of demands you have presented them, then we stand with you,” said Arin. “Galria has the moral high ground and my government sees no reason not to offer you our complete support. We guarantee ourselves as your allies should it come to war.”
This was another answer Ulas had expected. In spite of the elf’s posturing about which nation was in the right, their motives were more practical. If Ze Feros joined them in war, they would focus their eyes on Tal Feros, their traditional enemies. A war like this would give them the opportunity to seize Prophets Isle.
The island was the final resting place of the elven prophet Kartec, founder of the Kartism religion. After his death his followers had eventually split into two groups the Kartecs and the Malites. Ze Feros was Kartec dominated, while Tal Feros was controlled by the Malites.
Of course, over time there had been back and forth wars and annexations, so the different elven races had converted and mixed along the borders. Many had adapted well, although as history had shown, they tended to be targeted first whenever war broke out.
They were usually viewed as turncoats by the other side. A foolish notion in Ulas’s opinion. Many of them had lived and been raised in their religion for generations, so calling them turncoats was ridiculous. But when it came to the elves, blood and religion were more important than anything else.
The last war had been forty years ago, ending in a stalemate, with both nations each controlling half of their sacred island. Ulas had no doubt that the Caliph of Ze Feros was eager to seize all of the island and humble their old enemies.
“And I appreciate your support,” bellowed the king. “It is most welcome. My chief-of-staff, Lord Ulas Katanin, will keep you up to date on everything as it progresses. There is one request I would also like to make.”
“Yes, Your Highness?” asked Arin.
“Do you have a military representative at your embassy at the moment?” asked Cyrus. “In the event of your support, my generals are keen to coordinate our forces movements.”
Ulas blinked. He hadn’t prepared for the king to go so far. “You Highness, do you not think it is premature to open up a military dialogue?”
“No Ulas, I do not. Now shut up and let Ambassador jol’Kolsan answer my question.”
Ulas frowned. Something wasn’t right about this. There was no point in starting military coordination until a declaration of war had been issued.
Arin nodded. “As a matter of fact Commander Sador qur’Jidais is currently visiting the embassy. He serves under General rah’Qisik, our northern general. I can make him available to meet with your senior officers.”
“Excellent, thank you ambassador. There is one final item. Last night I received a telegram from Emperor Lawrence of Alkos. He is willing to treat with any representative I choose to send. I have no idea what he plans to say, but I am planning to send a contingent to hear him out. They will meet on the final day of my ultimatum.”
Both of the ambassadors acknowledged the information. The king stood and said, “Once again, I thank you for meeting with me, but I have many other matters to attend to.” Both of the ambassadors thanked him in return.
Ulas followed the king out of the chamber and back towards the main section of the palace. “Your Highness, may I ask what the military-,” he started to say, but the king interrupted him.
“Be quiet Ulas. What my military does, is not your concern. Focus on the capital and your actual duties.”
Ulas bowed his head. “Is there anything else you require, Your Highness?”
“No. I have a pressing engagement. My pets are due for a feeding.” And the king left Ulas at the interior door. The king’s statement meant he was attending another execution. Feeding criminals to his wild boars had become his favorite method of execution. The boars had acquired a taste for human flesh, so much that they now refused to eat anything else. Ulas had noticed that the crimes for which one could be executed by the king’s pets had grown wider and wider. The king did not want them going hungry.
Chapter 36
Atira waited in the side room of the luxury suite her father had rented in Alkos City. The room contained closets and desks for storage, but was otherwise nondescript. She could hear everything being said on the other side of the door, her agorid hearing picking up sound far better than most bipeds.
She was a tiger agorid, the most agile and cunning of the agorid races. She had never seen the steppes her people inhabited though. Her father had raised her in Wurnburg. He had hired the best tutors for her schooling and the best warriors Enz had to offer, to train her into a deadly fighter. He had raised her in the same beliefs he shared, he was the leader of a secret religious order, known as the Endless.
When she turned twenty, he revealed everything to her, about his order, his plans and his final goal. She had embraced them wholeheartedly and he put her to work in aiding him. He observed how skilled she had become and whenever he needed something done that required absolute trust, he gave it to h
er. Her feline head was trimmed slightly, she didn’t like her fur to grow too long. Orange and black striped fur covered hard, lean muscles and she wore a simple blue, two-piece outfit that gave her free flow movement for combat.
The talking stopped and the female voice said farewell. Atira heard the woman exit the room. She opened the door to the main room of the suite and walked in.
“So you struck a deal with her then?” she asked.
“Oh, yes,” replied Varko Kulthon, the leader of the Order of the Endless and the man she considered as her father. “She was more than eager to have access to raw materials from Streighas. She fully expects a war to arrive and if there is one thing Tegan Mordain knows, it is business. No doubt Typhon’s accounts will soon be filling up with government arms contracts.”
Atira smiled. Her father was a brilliant man. He had helped to engineer this war and now he was profiting from it. “No doubt she was impressed when her socialist problem evaporated.”
“For now,” replied Varko. “There’ll always be more cockroaches to crawl out from under the wood, ready to rebel.”
Her father moved from behind his desk and walked over to her. He brushed his hand along her face, his usual sign of affection. She closed her eyes. Her father had been so busy of late, she had not been able to see him much. Such was the price of greatness and she did not begrudge him it.
“What word is there from Kamura?” he asked. She handed him the telegram that had arrived in the morning. It was encoded of course, only members of Varko’s inner circle would be able to know what it said. Kamura was a young kitsune from Minakaya who had been recruited in his teen years. His skill at thievery and aptitude with mechanical devices had advanced him to a position as her father’s chief spy. Right now he was positioned in the Galrian capital, monitoring the mood of the palace to let them know when and if war would come.
He looked at the telegram as she gave him the outline of Kamura’s report. “The Galrian court is divided, but the king is acting aggressively.”
