by M. J. Sewall
Tolan asked, “He will make them fight?”
Harlow commented automatically, “I'd pay to see a boy king fight. And that Aline girl too.” He realized how he sounded, “Well, I'm not proud, but I've spent a coin or two on his island.”
“Can you show me on a map?” asked Tolan.
“Yes. But mine all burned.”
“I brought maps,” Tolan signaled to his man who brought the leather tube. It looked like it might hold arrows, but the man took out maps rolled tightly. They went to the deck to unfold it.
“We are here,” said Tolan.
“Right,” said Harlow nodding, “I took a rough star calculation last night. Nice to know I can still navigate that way. Loyce's island is not on many maps but look here and you'll find it.” He pointed to the spot.
“That's not too far away, especially by airship,” Tolan commented to his man.
His man replied, “We'll get underway right away.”
Harlow looked up at the airship and asked, “Do you have enough room for all of my men?”
“How many are left?”
“Twelve men, counting your guards, plus me,” said Harlow.
Tolan smiled, “Thirteen. Seems like fate.”
Harlow smiled, but it only made him look older, more tired.
“I will go aboard my ship and make arrangements. Airships have to be weighed out properly, evenly distributed. The lifting gas can only take so much new weight.”
Harlow said, “I've never been on an airship, but I understand how to distribute weight on a ship, so it won't tip over,” he tried to laugh, but it turned into a rough cough.
“No dead weight.” Tolan nodded.
“Exactly,” said Harlow, “I hate to give this up, but…” he reached into his pouch, pulling out a hand drawn map, “It's of the Outlands, well part of them. Might be helpful.”
Tolan looked at it, handing it back, “This is yours. No matter what happens after today, my plans don't involve the Outlands.”
Harlow took it back, relieved this greatest treasure was refused, and put it back in his shirt.
A guard from Ellice's mission came to him, and Tolan explained they had to get things ready onboard the airships. The guard nodded and told his men to be ready to leave. Tolan and his men took their maps and went back up their ropes to the airship. Harlow went back to his wounded ship, on the way to tell his men to get ready to go. He would leave her anchored here and look for another ship to tow it in. It will probably be a total loss, he thought. But he had lost ships before.
Harlow had a thought and looked up at the airship, floating right overhead. He thought it strange what the man had said, that the man left on Harlow's ship were very loyal to Brenddel and Mantuan. Strange, thought Harlow as he noticed the airship rising, getting higher, but still overhead.
The ropes had all been raised back up to the airship.
Harlow realized too late as he saw the orange glow coming from the side of the airship. He realized what the secondman meant by his deadweight comment, as the column of fire poured from the airship. Harlow's deck was filled with fire for the very last time.
Chapter 26: We've Been Looking for You
Mantuan found his way to the drinks house. It was half a day's ride from the palace. The message was clear that he would be meeting only one of this new Council. King Asa had wanted Mantuan to take guards but knew he could take care of himself. His battle-axe slung across his back, Mantuan rode his black horse fully armed with both longknife and short. He was there to talk, true, but it was better to be prepared for anything.
It was just getting dark, but the drinks house was strangely deserted. He tied his horse to the wooden rail outside and pulled the door handle. It was locked. Before he could knock, a small metal window in the door slid open. He saw two eyes, then the little window slid shut. The door unlocked and a young man in his early twenties met him. He was clean, but his expression was mean, angry. Trying to get clues from everything he saw, it was clear this Council was not totally united; this young man seemed angry that Mantuan had come.
The man did not say anything, just stood with his arms crossed. Another young man, dressed in the same plain clothes of the outer villages, came from the back room. This man was larger, more muscular. He didn't smile, “I checked outside. He came alone.”
“Do I know you, son?” asked Mantuan of the muscular young man.
“I'm not your son,” he said spitting on the wood floor. “You might remember me. I tried to get into the palace guard.”
“That's it. I remember. Cos… Cossca, isn't it?”
Mild surprise washed his face, but anger soon replaced it, “Yeah. Apparently, I didn't come from a good enough family.”
“The guards are hired by skill, not because of whom they know. It may have worked like that under Trunculin, but now it's decided on ability and other things.”
Cossca answered, “Trunculin, Brenddel, Mantuan. Same thing, all men ruling from the untouchable palace on the hill. Why wasn't I good enough then?”
“Your temper,” Mantuan answered. “The second test was to disarm your opponent.”
“I disarmed him.”
“Yes, by breaking his arm and almost crushing his throat,” Mantuan continued. “The guard must be loyal, strong… and patient. There is no room for hot, uncontrolled tempers.”
Cossca smiled, “Yeah, well that's going to change real soon.”
“You're in charge of this meeting then?” asked Mantuan.
A small man came from the back room, “No, Mantuan, I am.”
He walked into the room, calmly sat in the chair behind the table, and motioned for Mantuan to sit in the chair opposite, “I represent the Council of the Thirteen.”
Mantuan shook his head and sat. “You must be an important man that you can clear a drinks house after dark near week's end. What does your council want?”
“Right to the point. Good. We want you to immediately leave the palace. The Kings will step down, and the two councils – I think you are calling them the corner councils now - will disband.”
“Is that all?” asked Mantuan, laughing.
The small man did not laugh in return. “You must see how angry the people are. They expected change. Your new team gave them the same thing with a new face.”
Mantuan explained, “Change takes time. The people spoke and kept both Asa and Gordon as kings. That is what the people wanted. And the crowds that day were bigger than any in recent history.”
“That was still only a fraction of the people in our kingdom. A tiny sliver of the people made that decision. What about the will of the rest of us? You know, as I do, that the crowds gather mostly from villages close to the palace. The whole of the Kingdom must be represented, their will heard. It is time for the idea of kings to die.”
Mantuan asked, “Just like that? Just sweep away our history and tradition, to be replaced by you? Thirteen men that declare themselves a council of rulers? Is that what you intend?”
The small man chuckled and swept the argument aside. “You make it sound like the same thing. Our Council will be thirteen voices speaking for the people, taking care of the people.”
Mantuan clarified, “But not of the people. So, you want thirteen men…”
“…And women…” Rolem interrupted.
“Alright. Thirteen people to rule. How will they be chosen?”
“By their ability. By their intelligence.”
“By whose measure? Do the people get to decide who sits on this council?” asked Mantuan.
“Not directly. You can't expect a simple villager to recognize all of the abilities it takes to rule,” Rolem answered.
“Who then? You will decide for them?” asked Mantuan.
He replied, “It has already been decided. The Council of Thirteen is formed, and we will represent the will of the people far better than any boy.”
“So, you chose yourselves, and the people must simply trust you? I see. How long will they serve on th
is great council?” asked Mantuan.
“For life. Experience must count for something. Choosing from ordinary people leaves the door open for… well, I won't say stupidity, let's say, the less educated.”
“You sound more and more like Trunculin with every word.” Mantuan shook his head.
“Hmm.” he excused the accusation. “You don't remember me, do you?” asked the small man.
Mantuan looked hard, “I don't think so. Wait… you worked at the palace, didn't you?”
“Yes. You were gone a long time, Mantuan. I was the assistant to a lesser councilor then. I became assistant to Trunculin not long after you fell.”
“By the Gods, your name is Rolem.” Mantuan's tone changed. “we've been looking for you.”
“I know. That's why I left the day of Trunculin's trial.” Rolem said, “I knew you would want to know what I know. Or more likely, put me in one of Brenddel's dark little rooms and find secret ways to get what you want.”
Mantuan shook his head, “We don't do that anymore. Trunculin's evil ways are dead, but we do want to find out any dirty secrets that have not come to light. Who you are, Rolem… that changes this conversation.”
“I thought it might. What I know is that Trunculin was a monster. But he was right about one thing, this old system of boy kings is a lie. It begs for someone to take control. His mistake was using that lie to work in secret. We will tear down the lie and replace it with a better way for all the people to see,” explained Rolem.
Mantuan argued, “It failed only because Trunculin made it a lie. The idea was to make a system of kings chosen from the people. To make regular people an active part of their own fate. Choosing the young to lead instills innocence and purity at the top of our triangle. Start with a young boy or girl, no bad habits, no evil intent to rule by fear, like other kings. To shape the young king or queen by teaching them how to lead.”
Rolem's anger flared. “And look at what we got! The real power is in the teacher, the councilors to the king. Trunculin knew that. He just went too far with it.”
“You think you thirteen can wield total power over the kingdom and not become corrupt like Trunculin? You are fools. It will never work.”
Rolem said, “It already is. The people are on our side, you have already lost. You just don't realize it yet.”
Mantuan had finally had enough and stood up. “Maybe some of the people will follow you. Either way, the fact that you are Rolem, Trunculin's assistant, means I have to bring you in for questioning. You may be guilty of helping Trunculin. You'll get a fair trial if you helped in his crimes. Either way, you need to come with me now. The people will decide your fate, as it should be.”
Rolem laughed. “I hoped you would see reason, I really did. But I planned for this outcome.”
Mantuan realized both the young men were directly behind him. “I see. I assume there are more than these two coming then?”
“They are already here.” Rolem clapped his hands together. “I'm afraid I have to decline your invitation to go to the palace.”
Men began to pour out of the back room and stood behind Rolem. Cossca put his hand on Mantuan's shoulder. Mantuan shoved the table between him and Rolem, into the small man's gut, while grabbing Cossca's hand and pulling him over his shoulder to land on Rolem.
The other man behind Mantuan had his shortknife swinging down as he turned. Mantuan grabbed the man's wrist with one hand, the blade just missing him. With his other hand, Mantuan grabbed the man's forearm and twisted his arm the wrong way. The loud crack of bone was nearly as loud as the man's scream. He threw the man at the horde pouring over the table.
The front door burst open and a dozen of Mantuan's soldiers rushed in, knives out.
Rolem yelled, “Stop!”
Both small armies stopped and faced off in the drinks house.
“I thought you came alone,” said Rolem, rubbing his head where Cossca had landed on him.
“Like you, I planned for the worst outcome,” said Mantuan. “There are airships hovering above right now. This ends here.”
Rolem said, “Not here. Not yet. But we are coming.”
“Mantuan,” said one of his guards by the door, “You should see this.”
Mantuan looked around to the open door. Past the soldiers, regular villagers lined the street. The soft glow from the street's gas lamps showed no end to the sea of people. They held crude weapons, some with hayforks, some with metal pipes, all armed with something deadly, men and women alike.
There were hundreds, perhaps thousands.
The crowds stood silently. The men inside did the same.
“Airships won't stop the will of the people,” Rolem said. “Tell the boy kings we are coming.”
“So, you want the madness of a civil war, then?” Mantuan asked.
“There will be nothing civil about it,” said Rolem. “Let us have the palace peacefully.”
“You know that won't happen.” Mantuan said, “Civil war will end just like the last one. Anarchy preceded it, a harsh ruler followed it. The last one gave us Trunculin.”
“Then the war begins,” Rolem said. “Take them!”
Rolem's men surged, yelling for blood.
Mantuan yelled, “Back to the ships!”
The guards retreated back out the door, fighting the oncoming men. Rolem's men pushed forward as the crowd in the street surged from their rear. The shouts were fierce, but Mantuan's men had left enough ropes hanging from the airships. They all took a rope and the airships rose into the night sky.
The men climbed their ropes up onto the deck. Safely on board, Mantuan looked at the crowds. Their shouts could be heard even high above them. One of his men asked, “Should we pour fire…”
“Pour fire on our own people? Men, women, children? Of course not. We are supposed to protect them.”
“How many are there?” asked the guard.
Mantuan looked back to the streets. What looked like the entire village stood in the glow of the lamps. “This is bigger than I feared.”
His man asked, “What do we do?”
Mantuan answered, “Get back to the King.” Looking back down at the crowds he said softly, “and prepare for war.”
Chapter 27: Just a Finger
Kett and Lyrra were led through the ruined kingdom of Artoth. They experienced wonder among the ruins. The towers and waterfalls were like nothing they had ever seen. Artoth's series of terraced levels had clearly born much of the destruction brought by the Extatumm attacks. The blows had destroyed great sections of the kingdom. Rebuilding had started soon after the Extatumm's were repelled, but after less than a year, there was still much for the two kings to do.
Lyrra looked around, “Even with this much destruction, its… it's beautiful.” Kett nodded his agreement as they were led to the bathhouse. They were cleaned, and their clothes were washed and mended. Someone had even polished their weapons. They did not return them, however, explaining the recent rules preventing weapons in the presence of the two kings. When they met again, all ready to see the kings, Kett said, “We don't have any coin to pay you.”
The young woman replied, “We work for Santovan. He has paid for everything.” The name meant nothing to them, but they told the girl to thank him on their behalf.
Then they were led to the chamber of the two kings. The great room had highly polished stone floors, the blue and orange king's chairs sitting side by side. The rest of the room simply wasn't there. They stood facing the chairs, but over their heads was only sky.
No one had to tell them this must have been a target for the Extatumm attack. With only a partial wall standing, and no roof, they waited patiently as the cool breezes swirled around them. No one talked to them. Kett said, “I can't stand much longer. If I don't sit down soon, I may be meeting these kings flat on my face.”
An orange guard nearby said, “No one may sit in the presence of the kings. You grow strong legs waiting in Artoth.” he smiled widely, which gave them little comfor
t. The sharpened teeth of the guards would take some getting used to.
The doors finally opened, and there were at least twenty people that arrived ahead of the kings. A few of them stayed near the king chairs, but most of them went out into the larger space, chatting and milling around. No one seemed to find it strange that there were no walls to the room.
From somewhere they could not see, a loud musical gong vibrated through the space. A young man came out of each king door and loudly announced the ruler. They did this at the same exact time. They were talking over each other and each man got louder as his presentation went on. Both kings walked out at exactly the same time.
Both kings looked straight ahead as they sat in their chairs, careful not to look at each other. One of the young men spoke, “My King Ninnith of the Kingdom of the Gods of Artoth, high priest of the pact with man, bids you welcome, most humbly.”
A man standing next to the orange king on the right said, “My King Tethon, son of Torr the magnificent, King of Artoth and high ruler of the gods of punishment, offers welcome to these worthy visitors.”
The orange king spoke angrily, “Which one of you attacked Quanna, the beast of the canal?”
Before they could speak, the blue king said, “You both look exhausted. Guard, bring chairs for our honored guests.” Chairs were brought and they sat, finally resting their leg muscles.
The orange king shifted in his chair, grumbling, “I ask again, which one?”
Kett said, “My Kings, we both fought the beast. But we have more urgent news. A madman has taken control of Aspora and is planning to attack the Kingdom of the Thirteen. We ask humbly for passage on one of your ships to warn them.”
“You have enough kings to worry about right here,” said the orange king, “what concern do we have of your lands? You Asporans have a thousand little kings. What's one more?”
The blue king interrupted, “I would like to hear more. What is this man's name that took Aspora?”
Lyrra said, “Cayne, my King. And he had help. We saw Extatumm airships at his army's camp.”
