‘What do you make of that, Marshal?’ the squint-eyed sailor muttered, leaning on the rail casually.
Titus peered out across the bay. A small fleet of black-sailed Pelasian daram were moving swiftly towards them from Akkad’s military harbour, spreading out into a line as they came. They looked… threatening. Titus frowned. Not the sort of welcome he’d expected. What had happened in the two weeks since the empress had come home, he wondered?
His own recovery had been fast, but then he had always been a quick healer, and the actual physical damage to him had been minimal, thanks to the timely intervention of the harbour guard. Once his brain had achieved equilibrium and he stopped throwing up every time he moved, he had advanced on the path of recovery at speed. And in less than the doctor’s stated week, Titus had been back to business, selecting a unit of guards and commandeering the fastest ship in the harbour.
Then, leaving the emperor in Velutio, Titus had set sail south, down the eastern shores of the Nymphaean Sea, then a short hop across the mouth of the Eastern Sea and to the Pelasian coast, where they had turned east and made for the capital.
Leaving Kiva behind had weighed on Titus’s mind and heart for, though the emperor maintained his façade of administrative care and imperious control, Titus had known him all their lives, and he could see that a shattered man hid within that tough shell, lamenting the flight of all those he loved. And for Titus to have to abandon him too… At least he would be safe. The marshal had selected the three best prefects in his army and put them in specific roles in his absence: controlling the city walls, guarding the palace and protecting the emperor. Of course, they were the stated duties of the imperial guard anyway, but they were being given more specific focus now, taking into account the potential threat of assassins.
He hated being away from duty. But the emperor had been adamant. Find Jala and return her to Velutio.
Was he going to be allowed to speak to her, though?
The line of black ships spanning the bay looked an awful lot like an interdiction rather than a welcome. ‘Looks rather unfriendly, doesn’t it?’ he replied to the captain. ‘Better slow down and see what they do.’
As the captain gave the orders and the ship backed-oars until it slowed to a crawl, Titus peered at the ships approaching. They were military vessels, all right. The fleet of the god-king, each with artillery mounted in the bow. The black-sailed ships closed on Titus’s vessel and the centre of the line began to slow, the wings coming round and enfolding the stationary imperial ship like the wings of a great dark eagle. Titus resisted the urge to shout the order for his troops to make ready. It all looked extremely threatening, but Pelasia had been at peace with the empire for decades. As the lead ship closed further, the rest taking up a defensive ring cordon, Titus couldn’t help but note the fact that the artillery on board was loaded ready, even if it wasn’t actually pointing at them. Within moments the black vessel had come to a halt a few dozen paces away, the two ships drifting slightly in unison with the tide as the sun beat down mercilessly, turning the deck boards blistering hot beneath the men’s feet.
‘What are your designation, cargo, and intention,’ called the daram’s captain in thickly-accented imperial tongue.
Titus frowned. ‘Since when have such things been of concern between us?’ he shouted back.
‘Answer the question.’
The marshal turned to the captain beside him. ‘I don’t like the sound of this.’
Turning back to the Pelasian ship, he cupped his hands around his mouth again. ‘I am Titus Tythianus, Imperial Marshal, on a diplomatic mission from Velutio on behalf of the emperor himself. Why have you impeded us?’
There was a brief discussion on the other ship, then the captain shouted again. ‘Prepare to be boarded and searched.’
Titus narrowed his eyes. ‘Boarding a diplomatic vessel could be considered a belligerent act, captain. You might want to rethink that request.’
‘The order stands,’ the Pelasian replied.
‘We could just comply,’ the captain muttered next to Titus. ‘We’ve no contraband, after all.’
‘I am an imperial marshal, Captain. I’m damned if my ship is going to be boarded and searched like some low smuggler.’ He turned back to the black-sailed ship. ‘I am a personal friend of Mehrak, the huvaka of the god-king’s navy – your commander! Unless you’d like an international incident on your hands, perhaps you’d like to escort me to port and allow me to speak to him.’
Again, there was a brief confab on board the Pelasian vessel. The imperial captain leaned closer to Titus. ‘You really a friend of their commander, Marshal?’
‘Well, I’ve met him a few times. He’s a good man. He should be able to resolve whatever difficulties have arisen.’
‘Very well,’ came the shout from across the water. ‘Follow us into port and dock where we tell you. Only you, Marshal. No soldiers.’
‘That is highly irregular,’ Titus grumbled.
‘It is your choice. Submit to boarding or accept my terms.’
‘This is starting to piss me off,’ Titus grunted, but raised his voice. ‘All right. Lead us in.’
As the captain gave the orders and the Pelasian fleet manoeuvred to return to port, Titus gestured to his unit’s officer, who came jogging down the walkway between the rows of benches and halted with a salute.
‘We’re going into port and I shall be visiting the commander alone.’
‘I don’t like that, sir. Especially not with the way they’re behaving.’
‘Nor do I, but that’s what’s going to happen. Once you’re docked and I’ve disembarked, run out the ropes a little so that you’re not tight up against the jetty, and retract the boarding ramp. No one boards or leaves the ship at all. If the port authorities make any attempt to board, you have my authority to prevent them with the minimum force necessary, but they do not board this ship. Something mighty strange is going on here, and I’m not going to play their game until I know the rules. Got that?’
‘Yes, sir. Shall I load up the bolt-thrower, just in case?’
Titus shook his head. ‘That might provoke them. But make sure the thing is oiled and free and the ammunition is close by. Never hurts to be ready.’
Quarter of an hour later, the imperial coast-runner slid through the calm waters alongside the jetty in Akkad’s military port. The daram that had escorted them mostly returned to their berths, though Titus was unsurprised to note that six remained at sea, bobbing around the entrance to the harbour. It seemed the Pelasians were taking no chances.
But of what?
The situation eased in no way as the boarding plank was run out and the marshal, dressed in his full uniform and armed and armoured appropriately, dropped to the timbers of the jetty. Ten of the god-king’s soldiers were lined up at the far end of the planking, clad in black silk and shining steel, vicious-looking barbed pole-arms held high, small circular shields coming to a dangerous, spiked boss. The captain with whom he’d been conversing met him on the jetty and motioned for him to follow with no preamble. The ten black soldiers fell in and moved to escort them.
‘Is all this strictly necessary?’ Titus grunted, gesturing at the soldiers.
‘Strictly,’ the Pelasian captain retorted, ‘I was under orders not to let you land at all. Now, please, follow.’
Up from the dockside they marched, past warehouses of military hardware and units of marines busy about their routines. Though Titus was no great sailor and had only peripheral experience of the imperial fleet, it was hard to see the heightened activity in the military port as anything other than preparations for war. His pulse quickened again. What was going on?
The headquarters of the huvaka of the fleet stood on the higher ground overlooking the numerous jetties. It was a delicate building of white arcades and graceful balconies, windows of coloured glass and roofs of glazed tiles. More soldiers met them at the entrance and reluctantly admitted the new arrivals after the Pelasian captain explaine
d the situation to them. Once inside, half the escort dropped away and the captain and four remaining soldiers led Titus through the vestibules and halls of the headquarters – which seemed oddly empty and serene compared to the port outside – to the door of the commander. A knock, and the captain entered. There was a brief muffled conversation within, which, although Titus had a good command of the language, was too muted to quite hear. And then the door opened once more and the captain emerged, gesturing for Titus to enter.
The marshal stepped into the room and pushed the door shut behind him.
Mehrak Huvaka sat behind a wide desk, upon which was stretched a huge map. A model of a daram, complete with weapons and crew, sat at one edge of the table, and a tray bearing a jug of water with fruit floating in it rested at the other. Between them, the two weights held the map flat. Mehrak rose as the marshal entered and waved to a seat opposite him. He looked a lot older than Titus remembered, but then it had been almost a decade since they had met regularly.
‘Huvaka,’ he addressed the man politely by rank. ‘It is good to see you again,’ he added in seamless Pelasian.
‘Please,’ Mehrak replied in unaccented imperial, ‘let us use your tongue. I may be lord in this palace, but nowhere in Pelasia is truly free of questing ears, so let us not make things too easy for them, eh? You are looking well, Titus Tythianus.’
‘You politician.’ Titus grinned. ‘I look shabby and drawn and a good ten years older.’
‘And you lost a finger,’ the man laughed.
‘Long story. And not over-interesting.’ Titus sank into the chair and folded his arms. ‘What’s this all about, Mehrak?’
‘Specifically?’
‘Don’t dissemble. Refusing to let an imperial vessel dock? Demanding to board us and search us? We’re supposed to be allies, aren’t we? What’s going on? I came to speak to the empress, and attempt to persuade her to return to Velutio with me.’
Mehrak, who had been gently, rhythmically, tapping his stylus on the tabletop, stopped sharply.
‘What?’
‘Jala. Don’t tell me she didn’t come to Akkad, because I’ll discount that as a lie.’
‘Titus, do not play games with me.’
‘I’m not, Mehrak. What is going on? Can I speak to the empress?’
‘The empress is not here, Titus.’
The marshal straightened and unfolded his arms, his gaze becoming hard. ‘I told you not to lie to me, Mehrak. I traced her movements to Velutio’s port, and I’m sure beyond doubt that she took ship for Akkad.’
‘Titus, I know you of old. You are not a man of lies or untruths. Are you seriously telling me that you do not have the empress at Velutio?’
The hairs on Titus’s neck rose. ‘What?’
‘The empress? She is not in Velutio? Then where is she?’
Titus shuddered. Something was horribly wrong. ‘She’s here!’
‘No, Titus. She never reached Akkad. Your own people took her.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ snapped the marshal. I would know if we had.’
The Pelasian commander pushed back his chair with a scraping noise and rose, pacing along the edge of the table in a way that reminded Titus rather disturbingly of the emperor.
‘The empress never reached Akkad, Titus. Her ship was overcome and sunk somewhere in the northwest. Miraculously there were survivors who managed to live two days at sea until they were rescued by a passing merchant. They came to port here days ago now. They are witnesses to the imperial crime, Titus.’
‘What crime, Mehrak? You’re blathering.’
‘Titus, the empress’s vessel was sunk by an imperial warship. And with purpose of malice, for the witnesses say that the empress and her maids were the only prize taken. The ship, its crew and cargo were abandoned to the deeps. And you tell me you know nothing of this?’
‘Shit.’
‘That is hardly an answer, Titus.’
‘It’s the only one I have, Mehrak. I know nothing of the matter, and neither does the emperor. I came directly from his palace at Velutio, with his instructions to find his wife and bring her home.’
‘This is very bad, my friend,’ Mehrak hissed. ‘Come to the balcony. Fewer ears there.’
As they stepped out into the sunlight, the Pelasian officer suddenly switched to old Germallan, a language only spoken in certain eastern provinces and used in ancient literature.
‘You know this tongue?’
‘Yes,’ Titus replied. ‘I’m surprised you do.’
‘Few in Akkad will manage. It will grant us extra security. Titus, the immediate future looks troubled.’
‘I get that, yes. Why in the name of the gods would an imperial ship capture our own empress?’
‘There is some dissembling of motive here,’ Mehrak murmured, ‘but the truth of the matter is that the god-king believes your emperor to have imprisoned his majesty’s sister.’
‘You’re spouting nonsense now,’ Titus snorted. ‘Why would he do that?’
‘There is some notion of infidelity within the imperial family. The king believes that Emperor Kiva perceives such fault with his wife and has imprisoned her. What else was he to believe, given the fact that we have numerous witnesses to the imperial military capturing the Lady Jala as she attempted to escape to her brother’s lands?’
‘Oh, shiiiiit.’
‘Titus?’
‘The letters. She’s been pouring out her heart to her brother, hasn’t she. And he thinks… oh, shit. We haven’t got her, Mehrak. The emperor didn’t even know she was missing. We assumed her to be safely in the royal palace up that hill.’
‘Then we have a problem of enormous proportions, Titus. The king is furious beyond belief. Yesterday he dispatched a missive to the emperor demanding the return of the Princess Jala, and threatening hostilities if she is not delivered to Pelasian forces. Nahmad!’ he cursed. ‘The messenger and your vessel probably passed in the night.’
‘Mehrak, we cannot return her to her brother. We don’t have her!’
‘With respect, Titus, someone does. Someone with an imperial warship. That rather damns you all.’
‘Don’t tell me,’ the marshal grunted, pinching the bridge of his nose. ‘You’re already gathering the military aren’t you? That’s why there’s so much activity in the port. That’s why this headquarters is so empty. Because every officer with a job to do is out there doing it.’
Mehrak nodded unhappily. ‘The fleet is assembling along the coast. The army is gathering in three places, to cross by ship and by land if the empress is not returned. Our only hope to avoid conflict is that the empress is brought back to us. Hence the fact that every imperial vessel found is being boarded and searched.’
‘In Pelasian waters,’ added Titus.
‘No. Anywhere they are found. A sizeable sector of the fleet is at sea, hunting imperial shipping and searching them. It is likely a futile gesture, but the god-king demanded that I do all I can.’
‘Mehrak, even if gathering your military on the empire’s southern border doesn’t prompt conflict, boarding imperial vessels is tantamount to an act of war anyway, especially in open sea. This is madness. You’ve got to call off your fleet.’
The officer shook his head, his face bleak. ‘I cannot refuse my king, Titus. Just as you cannot refuse your emperor.’
‘You’d be surprised how often good men have refused bad emperors in the past.’
‘And look what happened. Twenty years of civil war. We are not the same in Pelasia. We cannot refuse the king. He is a god, Titus.’
‘If he’s so divine, he should be able to see the truth of this matter.’
Mehrak’s gaze hardened. ‘By standing order in Akkad, I should now impound your vessel and question everyone aboard.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. And we are a diplomatic party. You do that and war will come surprisingly quick.’
‘Which is why I am going to allow you to return to your ship, Titus, and put to sea unmolested.
But you need to get far from Pelasia as fast as you can. You were very lucky not to have met my fleet on your way here as it is.’
‘Mehrak, we have to resolve this. I can’t just go home and watch things deteriorate. Can you get me an audience with the king?’
‘No. He will not see you. And if he finds out you are here, he might well have you questioned and broken. Did I mention his fury?’
‘Then what can we do? We can’t let this descend into conflict. There hasn’t been war between our peoples in centuries. Remember the tales of the bad old days? None of us want a repeat of that.’
‘If war is to be prevented, the Princess – the Empress – Jala must be returned to Akkad.’
‘I told you: we haven’t got her.’
‘Someone has. Someone with an imperial warship. Find her, Titus. Bring her back and prevent the disaster that is coming.’
‘Find her?’ Titus snapped. ‘Are you mad? Have you any idea how many imperial ships ply the seas? And not just merchants. There are old warships owned privately by lords and cartels. There are pirates, there are mercenary vessels hiring out to guard merchant convoys. Then there are actual merchant vessels and couriers that have been fitted out to stop pirates that could easily be mistaken for warships. It would be like searching for a needle in a wheatsheaf. A nightmare.’
‘But, with respect, it is your nightmare, Titus. An imperial ship took her. Find her, and you might avert what is coming.’
Titus fell silent, looking out over the balcony. Far below he could see his ship, sitting in the water some ten paces from the jetty, loosely roped. Black-clad soldiers lined the dock defensively, and six daram splashed back and forth across the harbour mouth. It looked bleak. Jala had been taken by someone under an imperial flag. To find her seemed an impossible undertaking. But what choice did he have? He simply had to do it. Mehrak was correct.
‘All right, my friend, but I need two favours.’
The Huvaka of the Pelasian fleet nodded encouragingly.
‘I need to send a letter back to my emperor, and I cannot afford the time to do it myself, nor spare my ship, since I have immediate need of her. Can I put a few of my men on one of your scout ships to take word back to the emperor, and explain what I am doing?’
Insurgency (Tales of the Empire Book 4) Page 15
