“What did you find when you retraced Prince Daemyn’s steps?” Patrick spoke for the first time.
Xander’s amber eyes flicked towards Roselyn’s husband and back to the king. “I found that witnesses saw Prince Daemyn being watched by a man they had never before seen. A man who left shortly after he did. I believe that man acted under orders from Nicolette, followed the prince to his room, and killed him there.”
“Surely you have more evidence than some witnesses reporting a strange man who left the inn at an inopportune time,” the king offered.
“I was not entirely sure until I went to the meeting as Patrick’s guard. All I had to do was have a concentrated thought about her being responsible for Daemyn’s death and she reacted in such a way that confirmed my suspicions. She furthered my evidence with her attempt on my life later that very night.”
“Oh, Xander,” the queen’s eyes were wide.
Patrick stiffened. “And how can you be sure that this attacker was sent by Nicolette?”
“I recognized him as one of the guards that Nicolette had with her at the meeting earlier that day. My friend, a Gaian woman, was nearby and called out to me in warning. We fought briefly… Ultimately I stabbed him, but just before he died I found out that Nicolette had sent him to kill me.”
“That’s terrible,” Queen Isabelle whispered. “Thank goodness for your friend.”
“Yes, thank goodness,” said Roselyn. Despite the situation, she couldn’t help but have a brief moment of wondering who this new friend of Xander’s might be.
The king was confused. “She must not be very smart to send a man that can be so easily swayed to reveal his motives. That doesn’t sound like a very good assassin.”
“It was my Gaian friend who helped me with that, Majesty. She was able to read his thoughts and confirmed what I already suspected. Nicolette hired someone to kill Daemyn, and when I figured it out, she ordered a guard to kill me. A clever woman caught up in a stupid mistake. Considering what lengths she was willing to go to in order to silence a potential outcry, I can only imagine what she had in store for my would-be assassin if he had succeeded.”
“Well,” King Philip began, gazing at his family. “It seems that a great act of betrayal has occurred, and one that cannot be ignored. How much longer until the vessel leaves Triton? They usually stay for about a week, if I’m not mistaken.”
“Unfortunately, the Gaians departed before dawn on the following day. The constable tried to stop them but it was out of his jurisdiction. As an ambassador for the Empire, she only falls under the law of the High Council. Nicolette was quick to remind Aldous of that fact and he was forced to let her leave.”
“An unfortunate law meant to cripple us in moments such as this,” Philip spat bitterly. “Patrick, Xander, I believe we have a lot of planning to do. Nicolette will need to stand trial before our courts for her act of murder. Your testimony will be very important, Xander. If the High Council refuses to release her into our custody, we will withhold taxes until they change their minds.”
“How will we speak with the council?” Patrick inquired of the king. “Surely they won’t come to Triton.”
Philip stood and placed his hands before him on the desk. He gave a reassuring look to his wife and daughter, and then focused his hard gaze from Xander to Patrick. “I want you two to travel to Tellus. She will answer for these crimes.”
Roselyn’s stomach did a somersault. This whole idea was unheard of, but she said nothing. Sure there were trading cogs that traveled to the ports of Gaia but they always did their business from the deck of a ship. For the first time in centuries, Thalassans would set foot on the Gaian mainland.
Xander
Waves rocked the boat gently as it steadily pushed up the river. Brennus looked nervous as he peered over the bow and from starboard to port every so often. They were in Gaian territory now, with Erebus already miles behind them. Their stop at that port had been awkward enough, with the vessel inspected high and low. They had carried gunpowder and cannonballs for the sakers onboard but those were held at the port city once they made their final destination known. Patrick’s qualms had been cut short, in spite of explaining that the balls and powder were in case of privateers, the Gaian guardsmen would have none of it.
Now, Tellus would be a whole new matter. It was the heart of Gaia, where they made their capital, and it had stood for hundreds of years without any Thalassans so much as looking at it. Now they were sailing right to it, and within a couple days would arrive to march up to where the High Council sat and demand audience.
“Mind your manners,” King Philip had commanded Xander before he departed. “Remember that you are speaking to councilors who hold themselves of higher regard than me. These are the voices of Gaia’s Empire.”
“I shall remember,” Xander had promised. “However, I believe that Patrick will be doing most of the talking.”
“Lord Patrick,” the king corrected the watchman, “will be representing Thalassa in the noble sense of the word, but you will be seen as a representative of its military. Remember that this witch must be brought to justice over what she has done to my son, but also that you cannot demand anything from a people who do not listen to even our smallest requests. Stand strong, but do not overpower them.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Xander said. The king had coughed then and hacked up brown phlegm which he spat off Pontos’ dock.
“I have something for you,” Philip said quite suddenly. He appeared distraught for a moment but he maintained his bearing. He handed the watchman a flintlock pistol Xander recognized all too well. The king let out a sigh of trepidation. The handle was made of beautifully polished oak, so dark of brown it was nearly black. On the butt was a sheet of gold that stretched up to the trigger housing, only then being replaced by silver all save for a black trigger. The barrel itself was black, as well as the hammer, both made of finely tuned iron from a smith in Pontos that clearly took pride in his craft.
“Prince Daemyn’s pistol,” Xander said. His jaw tensed at the sight of it. “Your Majesty I cannot accept—”
“You can and will,” King Philip commanded. Xander took the weapon nervously as if it were about to go off in his hands. “This pistol was one of the few possessions of any true worth in my son’s Will. He granted it to you upon his death, you should know. His sword and belt went to his sister, his garb to his servant Theodore, and his jewels passed to whomever should bear the title of Thalassa’s heir should he pass.”
“Surely you should want something of your son’s, Your Majesty,” Xander had protested. He still held on to the weapon awkwardly.
“I have plenty,” the king said, tapping his head. A tear began to form in his blue eyes but he blinked it away. “You were missing a pistol, anyhow. And I am glad to see that Daemyn held you in such high regard. It means you are the right man for the job.”
Xander resolved that he would be forced to carry the burden of his friend’s murder weapon. He tucked it into the strap across his chest to replace the dented one he had left on Triton. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
“You are quite welcome, Xander,” King Philip had said genuinely. “You are a good soldier, and soon to earn the title of First Watchman on Triton if you do everything to my satisfaction.”
“An honor, Majesty, though I believe that rank belongs to another man.”
“He will have to move down then,” King Philip said with a casual shrug. “He is not the one who discovered my son’s murder, or murderer for that matter, you are. The pay would be the same, but the title of First Watchman would bring more responsibility to your platter, soldier. If I have you advanced, you will report directly to Constable Aldous on everything and you will rank above every other soldier on the isle, though you will still retain only your four guardsmen beneath you directly. Most of the other watchmen may report to Aldous themselves anyway, but you would have the title and prestige that goes along with being second-in-command.”
“I shall
do my best,” Xander had said with a bowed head.
Now he stood on Brennus’ vessel for his first mission of any real significance. His first orders that did not mean kicking someone out of a tavern or sending a few prostitutes into the more grungy streets of Pontos. He would actually be doing something important, and it felt good to know that within days Nicolette would be on this ship bound for Thalassa to receive justice.
Gaia’s main river was deep, with a thickly flowing current, and had deposits of black silt that formed along its banks. The Skamandros was a very wide river, miles upon miles from what Xander could tell, and there were small villages that lined it every dozen miles or so. Each village probably housed only a couple hundred men and women, but they were well off because the silt provided good soil to till and there was plenty of salmon in the river. There were mountains beyond those lush villages, grey peaks that soared thousands of feet into the air to cover the horizon whether looking east or west.
“I had no idea Gaia was so mountainous,” Patrick suddenly announced.
“It is bordering the river. There are also plains and valleys in other areas though. Those stretch for miles. So I’ve read, at least,” Xander said, relishing the opportunity to boast on his ability to decipher the written word. He hoped that Patrick would not put him to the test, however. He was not that skilled yet.
“Interesting,” Patrick said. “How do you like being a watchman? Was it not too long ago that you were a guardsman at the castle?”
“Yes,” Xander answered. He bit the inside of his cheek. “I had wanted to stay on Pontos but the promotion took me elsewhere. Still, the title is one to be proud of I suppose. The pay raise is a nice change, as well.”
“I’m sure that the coin does help,” Patrick said with a chuckle. “Titles have their own way of providing too, whether money is involved or not. And already talk of perhaps another one? The king honors you well for uncovering the mystery around Daemyn’s death.”
“A little fast for my taste, to be honest. I was never hailed as the greatest soldier before, just one who was able to follow orders well enough. I never truly understood my advancement to watchman. I suppose if I had never been sent to Triton though, we would not be where we are now.”
“Life takes us where it will,” Patrick said with a smile.
“How do you like your newfound position?” Xander inquired. “The heir to Thalassa’s throne, husband to a beautiful princess, and soon-to-be father, that’s quite a change from the son of a noble.”
Patrick bristled for a moment but calmed himself. “Life has been good to me, as of late. Princess Roselyn accepted my proposal and we were wed almost instantly afterward because of the prince’s death. Now I am just trying to keep everything in perspective. It seems like ages have already passed since I was the ‘son of a noble’ with barely a responsibility, now I travel to Gaia and speak with the voice of the king demanding justice. My title as heir is only so long as it takes for our child to come of age. That is, as long as the gods will noble Philip to live a long and prosperous life. Our child, if it is a boy, will be the blood of the Coren House and thus will be able to continue what our forefathers have set forth as our royal family.”
“I see,” Xander replied with a nod. “It is, nevertheless, a great honor. Congratulations.”
“I thank you, Xander,” Patrick said, and he meant it. There was something about the nobleman. Even though Xander wanted to punch him half the time he knew the man did not deserve it. Patrick was a genuine man with good intentions.
Xander nodded once more and turned away from Roselyn’s husband to watch the river again. The oars were beating in time with one another, propelling the vessel forward through the churning water slowly but surely. Tellus was still about a day away, but his stomach was already tying in knots just thinking of venturing off Brennus’ ship. The captain was speaking with the young woman who worked on the boat, Saija, over what needed to be done once they made port. The woman was unmistakably anxious as well, her green eyes flitting back and forth from Brennus’ face as she listened to the country all around them.
Patrick moved from his silent partner’s side and began speaking with the sailors. Once he was gone Xander turned his back on the starboard railing and leaned his weight against it. He pulled his longsword from its scabbard and dug into the small pouch hanging at his belt for his whetstone. The watchman used long steady strokes to sharpen the ugly grey blade, tapering off at the end until he had brought an edge to the weapon that would make a butcher nod in approval. When he finished he stared off the stern and for the first time in his life the young soldier missed home.
*
“You two ready?” Brennus asked.
The ship was being tied down to Tellus’ grand harbor and every sailor was working hard to ensure the ship would be able to survive the trip back to Thalassa. They caulked the leaking planks in the bilge and three men set out to scrape what they could off the hull. The water was cold but they dove in anyway, reveling in something to do other than pull oars. Saija checked the rigging and brought a scrap of cloth from the cabin to patch a tear in the vessel’s mast.
“I am ready,” Patrick announced. He was wearing a gold tunic beneath a black cuirass with muscles shaped in the boiled leather. Thalassa’s heir had abandoned the normal forest green of his Adliger cloak for the regal crimson of royalty, trimmed with gold lace that matched the sleeves of his tunic poking out from beneath the leather straps guarding his shoulders. His trousers were made of white linen, and had been washed thoroughly before the voyage to guarantee they looked pure in the sun’s light. Black leather boots came nearly to his knees and Xander smiled as he saw that they were probably purchased the day they had set out.
Xander was dressed in black trousers with a white linen tunic that was more beige from sweat staining it over the past couple weeks. His iron mail was pulled over it to keep the tunic hidden and the day before they had set out King Philip had ordered one of his servants to scour the iron clean so that the Thalassan soldier would look somewhat presentable. The iron had a silver sheen to it when in the sun but was mostly shadowed by Xander’s blood red cloak. He too wore boots, though they were dark brown and bore the creases of many months. The watchman kept his head free from a helmet and so his short hair was choppy and tousled from the sea’s wind. It took him only a moment to strap his weapons belts on and he promptly told the two men he was ready as well.
Brennus, Xander, and Patrick all disembarked and Brennus’ sailors stomped their feet on the deck at his departure. He waved to them and turned back as the three men continued down the dock. Some Gaian dockhands had looks of scorn reserved for the Thalassan men as they passed, while others ignored them entirely. The harbor itself was massive, stretching around half of the small isle that made up Tellus to account for much of the city’s commerce. Xander was in awe over the sheer size of it all. There were ships coming and going at a constant rate, unloading cargo and loading cargo to go distribute it throughout Gaia’s ports. Tellus was without a doubt the largest city he had ever seen, dwarfing even Pontos in its grandiosity. While Thalassa’s capital had roughly three hundred thousand inhabitants, Xander estimated that Tellus must have had over three times that.
With that big of a population also comes concentration, though, and it was evident that Tellus was a crowded mass of people. There was not a single tree in Gaia’s capital and the only green that grew was grass in between some of the cobblestones that paved the street. Everywhere Xander looked grey appeared to be the predominant color. The roads were grey, the buildings were grey and hewn from the same stone as the roads, and many Gaian men and women wore grey as well. Gaia’s House colors, if they could be called a House, were grey and green, but the only green garments the three men noticed were worn by the soldiers patrolling Gaia’s streets.
A prostitute stepped from an alley towards the three men but quickly stepped back in fear once she realized where they came from. As if their colors did not distinguish them eno
ugh, Xander had a pistol strapped to his chest to mark him as not only a Thalassan but also a soldier. Gaians had never found a liking toward the weapon, as they saw it as barbaric and boisterous, but some of them did possess bows. It was typically the less wealthy, Gaia’s lower class, who were soldiers proficient with the war bow, and that was because it took a deal of skill in order to use the weapon. Xander had read with Sophia that some of the Gaian lower class trained at early ages to become better and better at archery, and once they were older they were lethal. They disdained the gun also because the lead came out too fast to move any which way they wanted, but the deadliest archers of Gaia were able to loose a shaft that would normally fly a couple hundred paces and use their minds to push the arrow even farther. Or guide its path.
The three men walked between two guards who did not as much as look in their direction as they both said, “Your weapons, gentlemen.” Xander paused for a moment but unbuckled his weapons belts quickly. They would do little good as it was in Tellus. He handed over the belts along with his pistol and longsword, Patrick’s expensive blade accompanying the soldier’s and a great knife from Brennus as well. “You may proceed inside.”
They passed into the vast stone hallway ultimately ending in a great room. Xander looked about the lengthy hallway anxiously, taking note that there was not a single door or corridor that branched off from that one. It was Patrick who spoke everyone’s wonderings. “Did they know we were coming?”
“If all one has to do is think to send a message, news of our arrival must have traveled swiftly indeed,” Brennus replied.
There were five chairs of marble in Tellus’ council chamber. They were elevated above the circular floor so that each of their elderly patrons was seated high enough to still be at eye-level with those who stood. The old men glanced at the Thalassans briefly before looking at one another. They could not be called frail, despite their age, for each one still looked strong of mind and body before they had even spoke.
Severance (The Sovereign Book 1) Page 17
