by Jon Monson
“You shouldn’t be at the front of the column,” Jabari said, still looking straight ahead. “It’s not safe. What if there were another attempt on your life?”
“Then it’s probably best that I take the brunt of the assault,” Aydiin said. “After all, I have survived two attacks.”
“I’m beginning to think that these rebels who want you dead are somewhat incompetent,” Jabari whispered as Mislan padded silently on the cobblestone road.
“I have found it strange,” Aydiin began slowly, “that there have been two attempts to kill me, yet both were so different. It almost makes me think they’re two different groups.”
“It’s hard to believe that anyone even knows who you are,” Jabari scoffed. “It’s even harder to believe there are two groups of people who could benefit from your demise.”
“But one of them had the forethought to try a well-orchestrated attack on me,” Aydiin began. “While the other sent a few poor Jandarm to try to kill me. The style is just completely different.”
Jabari stiffened slightly at the mention of the assassination attempt on the train. Aydiin raised an eyebrow at the small change in his brother’s posture. There was someone who had something to gain by Aydiin’s absence.
Jabari was trying very hard not to look at the rooftops, and suddenly the physical distance he’d tried to put between himself and Aydiin made perfect sense.
“You know, even the best of snipers can miss,” Aydiin said slowly, moving closer to his brother. “Especially in the dark.”
“That’s one of the reasons we’re moving you at night,” Jabari whispered. “You’ll be a much more difficult target.”
“Yet we’re also on the best-illuminated road in the city,” Aydiin said. “It wouldn’t be that hard to hit me from say, one of the rooftops.”
Jabari’s head tilted slightly as his gaze shifted to a building on the right. Aydiin moved Askari even closer to Mislan. The two kertons growled softly at one another.
“That’s true,” Jabari said slowly. “But certain risks have to be taken. We couldn’t take the smaller side streets – they are much too suitable for an ambush.”
“That’s true,” Aydiin said. “How accurate do you think a good sniper is at night? Any chance he’d hit someone close by?”
Jabari stiffened but didn’t say anything.
“I’m no expert,” Aydiin continued, smiling. “But I would say it’s about fifty/fifty that someone next to me would be hit. Depth perception at night can be awfully tricky.”
“I’m not really sure about the odds,” Jabari finally said. Aydiin saw him lift his hand and wave it back and forth discretely. The movement was small, but Aydiin knew exactly what it meant – Jabari was signaling to someone. From the looks of the signal, it was calling something off.
“What about getting police officers to kill me on a moving train seemed like a good idea to you?” Aydiin asked, once again abandoning the subtlety used by Salatian nobility to slaughter each other.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jabari responded, his voice betraying the nervousness he must be feeling. “I’m a Prince-Captain in the Sultan’s Guards and your brother – it’s my duty to protect you.”
“I forget. Which great general said to put your valuable person in the very back of the group where he’s susceptible to attacks from the rear? I must have missed that one,” Aydiin smiled, although he knew his brother wouldn’t see it. He hoped the smile would be conveyed through his tone.
“I didn’t think about the order we were travelling in,” Jabari said, obviously trying not to squirm. “I was so focused on getting you to the harbor, I must have forgotten. Besides, you had me so flustered with bringing Askari that I –“
“Just admit it,” Aydiin said. “You want me out of the way. You want the throne for yourself when Father dies.”
Jabari didn’t respond. He just kept riding. The harbor was growing near, and Aydiin couldn’t say he was exactly sorry to be leaving his brother’s company.
“Just tell me something before I leave Salatia forever,” Aydiin said. “We’re brothers. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
“This isn’t a family,” Jabari said, finally turning to look Aydiin in the eyes. “It’s a dynasty. We’ve been given charge of our nation, which is a responsibility I don’t take lightly. I couldn’t live with myself if you became Sultan.”
“I wonder what Father would think of a confession like that,” Aydiin hissed. The harbor was now in sight. This conversation would end soon.
“You have nothing,” Jabari said, turning again to face the road ahead. “All I have said is you would make a terrible Sultan – something that everybody already knows.”
“It’s just good to know you care so much,” Aydiin said. Jabari didn’t respond to the sarcasm.
At port sat the largest ship Aydiin had ever seen. The MNSS Oosman the Great – the first steamship in the Salatian Merchant Marines – dominated the docks, smoke belching from its three large smokestacks. Aydiin looked at the ocean-faring behemoth with awe before he realized Jabari was leading him towards the ship. A group of sailors stood at the bottom of the gangplank, their faces shadowed in the darkness.
“You’re late,” one of them called out. “We’ll need to burn extra coal to make it to Palmas on time. I can’t be waiting around all night for one passenger to show up.”
“My apologies,” Jabari said to the man as he stopped and jumped off of Mislan. “I have the passenger here. He’s rather high maintenance and took longer than expected to ready himself for the journey.”
“I don’t care how fussy he be, just as long as you have the coin,” the sailor said. Jabari pulled out a purse and threw it at the man. As he caught the sack, Aydiin heard the clink of what sounded to be dozens of kurus – much more than was generally required for a single passage across the ocean.
“Thank you for staying in port,” Jabari said. “I believe this should more than make up for your lost time.”
“That it will,” the man said, feeling the weight of the coins in his hand. “Well, let’s not waste any more time. The engines are already running.”
The sailors made their way up the plank to the ship deck. Aydiin stared at his younger brother – a boy with such ambition he would plot his older brother’s assassination. The thought made him sad, even though they’d never had a good relationship.
“All the best to you,” Aydiin said, sticking out his hand. Jabari didn’t take it. Instead, he just stared at him.
“Well, give me Askari,” Jabari said. “I’ll take him back to the palace with me.”
Aydiin had forgotten his promised to leave the kerton behind. He glanced up to the ship. The sailors were obviously impatient to push off.
“Well, since I’m already being exiled without real cause, I think I’ll actually commit a crime to make it feel worthwhile,” Aydiin smiled. He kicked Askari in the ribs and led the kerton up the gangplank.
He could hear Jabari cry out from behind as the crew members lifted the gang plank and the ship’s large paddle wheel began to spin. Aydiin patted Askari’s neck as the ship began moving, taking him away from the city he loved so much and the brother he didn’t.
Chapter 10
Sitting atop Askari, Aydiin fought back tears as he watched Maradon grow smaller in the distance. Flickering lights from the thousands of buildings that made up the Salatian capital blurred, turning into a single flame on the horizon. Then it disappeared, the curvature of the ocean swallowing the city until it might as well be under the waves.
Although he had left dozens of times, and had actually spent relatively little time in Maradon in recent years, the city had still always been home. Yet this departure felt final, and it was hard to pretend that this arranged marriage was anything but exile. He may see the city again, but it would never be his home.
A deep sigh welled up from his chest. He was going to a new home or perhaps just beginning a new life without one. Either way, i
t was an adventure, and that was something he should be welcoming with open arms.
Turning from his vigil, he began to appreciate the massive vessel carrying him across the sea. The MNSS Oosman the Great was by far the largest ship in the Merchant Navy of the Salatian Sultanate, and its massive hull would take a week or more to unload after reaching Palmas.
By far more interesting than the Oosman was the crowd that had gathered on deck. He’d been so engrossed in watching Maradon disappear that he’d forgotten the effect a fully grown kerton would have on those less familiar with the strange creatures. Two dozen crew and as many passengers stood in silenced awe at the near-mythological creature that stood before them.
He waved over a man wearing the uniform of a common sailor. The man gulped quietly as he realized Aydiin was singling him out, but he stepped out of the crowd and slowly approached.
“Would you be so kind as to watch over my kerton?” Aydiin asked. The man - whose pale skin and blonde hair marked him as a native of Naerdon – went rigged and all blood instantly drained from his face.
“He’s really not as vicious as people say,” Aydiin smiled. The young sailor remained motionless, his face growing somehow even paler. Aydiin shook his head, looking for another crewman with more backbone.
The man who had been awaiting him on the docks – the same man who had accepted a large amount of coin from Jabari – stuck out from the crowd. In the light of the ship’s lanterns, Aydiin could see he wore the uniform of the ship’s captain.
“Captain, is there a place I can take my kerton?” Aydiin asked. “I assume you have a place for horses on board. It should do nicely.”
“I don’t want yer creature eating our horses,” the captain said. “Keeping that thing on board wasn’t part of the deal.”
“I assure you, he’ll be fine as long as he’s left alone,” Aydiin replied. “He ate recently, and shouldn’t need to do so again until we reach Palmas. He just needs a place to sleep – he’ll do little else.”
A little secret most people didn’t know about kertons was their penchant for laziness. Of course, they were capable of running at great speeds for long periods of time, fighting with more effectiveness than a small army, and eating vast amounts of flesh; yet, when they weren’t forced to do those things, they preferred to do nothing but sleep and lounge about. This trip to Palmas would be just the break Askari needed.
“I can show you where the horses are,” said a young boy with the olive skin of his countrymen. The lad approached, shaking slightly but overall keeping his composure. Aydiin slipped him a ten kurus coin, more money than he’d probably ever held in his entire life. The boy’s eyes grew large and a smile spread across his face.
Aydiin followed the boy along the deck, Askari’s reigns in hand. The kerton growled softly as he followed the prince. The crowd parted as the trio made their way across the wood deck of the Oosman.
The boy eventually led them to a ramp that led down below deck, and Aydiin’s nose picked up the scent of freshly mucked stables. The smell of the horse manure mingled with the rich timber of the ship. The smell filled him with memories of previous voyages and adventures. His plan had better work if he wanted to ever have another adventure in his life.
Six stalls, obviously meant only for the finest of horses, dominated the room. Only the wealthy passengers would bring their steeds along with them on such a journey, and only prized stallions would be transported across the ocean.
Of course, Salatia was known for its above-average war horse, and their export had been a significant part of the nation’s economy. However, with the adoption of the automobile in many of the wealthier nations, the demand for Salatian horses continued to drop steadily. The nearly empty stalls were another reminder of his father’s refusal to keep up with the world.
A majestic white stallion – the only horse in the stables - pawed nervously as they entered. However, the beast had the look of a war horse, and had the proper training to handle the smell of a kerton. Aydiin found himself grateful the room wasn’t full of untrained steeds.
Leading Askari to an open stall as far from the white charger as possible, Aydiin led his friend into the wooden enclosure. The smell of fresh straw filled his lungs, and Aydiin breathed in deep. He patted Askari on the nose and began rubbing the kerton’s face as he padded on the straw-covered wood.
“It’s going to be okay, old fella,” Aydiin said, rubbing Askari’s face. “You get a nice break after all we’ve been through.”
The warmth and comfort of Aydiin’s touch was obviously having the desired effect on the lizard. Askari purred softly as he settled down into the bed of straw. Aydiin bent down to his knees and continued whispering softly to his friend. Within a few moments, the kerton was snoring softly. Aydiin sighed as he rose to his feet.
“Do you really ride that thing?” the boy asked, his eyes still wide. However, the thick piece of gold in his hand seemed to have calmed him.
“I have ever since I was your age,” Aydiin replied, pulling his eyes away from the sleeping kerton. “He really isn’t as terrifying as you think – as long as you stay on his good side.”
“D’ya think I could ride him sometime?” the boy asked, his eyes resting on Askari, whose sides lifted up and down steadily with his breath.
“Probably not the best idea on the ship. Kerton are loyal creatures, but their loyalty is hard-won,” Aydiin said and he could see the boy’s shoulders fall slightly. “How about if I ever make it back to Maradon, you can come by the palace some time. I’ll teach you to ride.”
“The palace?” the boy asked. “Are you one of the Sultan’s Guards?”
Aydiin just remembered that no one on board was to know who he was. Nobody would expect a prince to be taking passage on a merchant ship, even one as powerful and prestigious as the Oosman. Aydiin mentally cursed himself for becoming so lax in his conversation.
“Yes, that’s exactly right,” Aydiin said, trying to recover. “I’m on a very secret mission for the Sultan. Can you keep this a secret?”
The boy nodded enthusiastically, memories of the coin he’d just received fresh in his mind along with the allure of more to come. Aydiin rubbed his head and made his way up the stairs to better enjoy the ship in the moonlight.
Now that Askari was comfortable, Aydiin climbed back onto deck to appreciate his first time aboard a steamship. The vessel had two large paddle wheels near the middle on either side, which were aided by several large sails. This was the fastest that Aydiin had ever gone on the water, and the thrill was just now entering his bones. He began walking to the middle of the ship to admire and study the paddle wheels.
The MNSS Oosman the Great had only been in the Merchant Navy of the Salatian Sultanate for a little over a year. Lightly armed with just a few small guns, it depended on speed to outrun pirates or potential enemies. At one hundred spans in length, it was the largest ship in the merchant navy, and larger than most of the Sultan’s warships as well. Aydiin suspected that the hull was filled with iron and steel to be sold in Genodra since part of the marriage arrangement had included a generous trade deal, in which Genodra would be able to purchase iron and steel at a steep discount for the next year. Aydiin felt strangely satisfied that his father’s plan to get rid of him would cost him a fortune.
Yelling near the front of the ship pulled Aydiin out of his thoughts. In the dim twilight, he could see a crowd forming. As he jogged over to the commotion, he could hear the cursing from the sailors grow louder. Aydiin forced his way between several large, sweaty crewmen to see what was causing such a ruckus. A man with a veiled face was being held roughly by an officer.
“What do we do with stowaways, boys?” The man yelled to the crowd of salty men before him.
“Throw ‘em overboard,” several of the men cried. The excitement in their voices was palpable. Apparently, a stowaway being thrown overboard was a rare treat to break up the humdrum life aboard a merchant ship. Aydiin was horrified at the terrible price to be pai
d for what seemed to be a minor offense. However, with all that had happened recently, Aydiin wasn’t keen on helping someone sneak on board who may be trying to kill him.
The officer shook the man violently as the crewmen cheered. The veil fell away from the man’s bruised and bloodied face. Aydiin’s jaw fell open, and it took what seemed to be an eternity to find his voice.
“Barrick!” Aydiin yelled, finding the ability to speak as he rushed forward.
The officer released Barrick’s arms, and Aydiin hurriedly grabbed his friend before he fell to the ship’s deck. A wave of muttering spread through the crowd, and Aydiin could tell that neither the officer nor the crew seemed happy with this latest turn. Barrick smiled at Aydiin, a wound on his lip opening up as he did so.
“I couldn’t just leave you to face domestic bliss all on your own,” Barrick chuckled. “What kind of friend would that make me?”
Aydiin was glad to see his friend, but he knew that it would be difficult to get him out of this scrape. There was murder in the officer’s eyes.
“I don’t care what his name is, he’s a stowaway,” the officer said, pushing Aydiin out of the way. “We found him down below deck, stealing from the kitchens. Now get out of our way, or we’ll throw you off with him.”
The officer obviously had no idea of Aydiin’s identity, thinking him a nobleman at best. Keeping his identity secret was prudent, but right now that precaution could cost Barrick his life. His decision to sneak onto the ship was a foolish one, but it shouldn’t result in his death.
The officer once again grabbed Barrick by the shoulders, and began to take him near the edge of the ship. Without thinking, Aydiin drew his sword. The insignia of the Royal Family – the kerton and the flame - shone brightly in the orange lantern light. A few gasped as they saw the sword and what it meant.
“I am Aydiin, Prince-General of Salatia. You will unhand that man, or you will face my wrath.”
