Jewel of the Surf

by B. C. Johnson

  Jeremy stood, leaning heavily on Victoria for aid. “Then we convince him one of his precious pieces lies in the mountains. With the Guardian dead, the people will fall back in line.”

  Lucas sighed. “What of the things he said about peace? What if he really could bring our world together and create balance? Shouldn’t we try and help him?”

  Jeremy wheeled around, slapping his oldest son across the face so hard it made him stumble back a few steps. Jeremy wrapped his fingers across his son’s face like a vice grip. “Do not ever show such weakness, fool-hardy boy! Do you want others to walk over you every day of your rule?”

  Lucas managed to wrench his way free. “No! I only meant if the people support him why shouldn’t we?”

  “Because the people are stupid and simple minded! It is a fool’s errand. Uniting the races and fighting off Cain? Cain has existed for thousands of years and will live on for a thousand more! An end to storms and famine? Do we live in a fairy tale? The people will believe what we tell them to believe, do what we tell them to do! They are sheep and we are their shepherd. No matter how loudly a charismatic blue haired sheep dog may bark or how hard the wolves at our borders may bite, who in the end decides where the flock goes? The dog? The wolves?”

  Lucas hung his head. “The shepherd.”

  “Precisely,” Jeremy coughed. “Take your head out of the clouds and back down here where it’s needed. Or don’t, and see how long you last against your brother once I am gone.”

  Jeremy staggered off towards his quarters. Edmund sent his brother a smug look before he turned the opposite direction to move through a side passage after some advisors. Once the room was vacant, Victoria took Lucas’ hand and caressed it, looking into his eyes pleadingly. Victoria was from Bashawn, a gift given to Jeremy when the alliance between their kingdoms had been forged some ten years earlier. At the time, Lucas and Victoria had both been in their early teens. The two had practically grown up together. To top things off, Victoria was mute, which made Lucas one of the only people on the face of Teva who had been around her long enough to communicate with her. Lucas smiled towards her. “I’m alright. Don’t worry.”

  Despite her speech handicap, Victoria was by any measure the most beautiful woman in the kingdom. Bashawnians had the distinct genetic trait of having snow white hair from birth, long faces with high cheek bones, and fair, soft skin. It was widely believed that the entire nation is a kingdom of mixed blood between humans and elves, which is where the distinct facial features derive. Many human nations despised the country, claiming it was the solemn duty of all “true-blooded” nations to wipe it from the face of Teva. Lochkary was one of the only kingdoms who had come to Bashawn’s aid. Ten years had passed since Lochkary’s military had driven off Bashawn’s invaders and a formal alliance forged between the two. Now, with the famine and Cain’s invasion, Bashawn’s enemies had beset upon the kingdom once more knowing full well that Lochkary could not afford to come to the kingdom’s aid this time around.

  Lochkary was not without its prejudice however, despite the promise to aid their ally. Victoria was little more than a nursemaid to Jeremy than an actual queen. He refused to sire any children with her due to her mixed background, even though many thousands of years had passed since the interbreeding of the two races. Bashawnians’ blood was now so diluted it had little difference with other humans beside the distinct facial features. This ostracizing had made Victoria’s stay in Lochkary lonely and dark. Although she had her servants, Lucas was the only person who had shown Victoria true kindness, and she loved him for it.

  The queen motioned her hands towards Lucas in a sign language they had developed as kids. Do you want to go for a walk? Talk about it?

  “No, I am going to see if I can catch up to the Guardian. I’m going to assist him, regardless of my father’s intention.”

  Victoria gave him a sly grin. Always the troublemaker.

  “Yes well, someday I will be king, and when that day comes I would very much like to see this peaceful world,”

  And I would very much like to be beside you when that day comes. Victoria said, her face flushing a bit as she finished.

  Lucas caressed her cheek, kissing her fondly as he often did when they were alone. He would make her a proper queen someday, not some trophy. Jeremy’s yelling came from the hallway, “Victoria! To me!”

  Queen Victoria caressed her lover’s cheek one last time before she scampered out of the room. Lucas sighed, turning on his heel and out the mahogany doors.

  Chapter 4

  Favors & Plots

  Sam and his companions retrieved their horses and stood in a circle facing each other as the palace gates closed behind them. “Now what?” April exclaimed. “What’s our next move Sam?”

  Sam was still letting his nerves settle after the audience with the king. “I need a place to lie down.”

  Nathaniel chuckled and slapped Sam on the back. “Not many can stare down a king and walk away with his reputation intact, let alone his head. Come, we will stay in our family’s estate.”

  “How is the old place?” Haven asked as they started riding through the streets.

  “I poured every coin we had in the family treasury into her, she’s holding together. I don’t know for how much longer though. I had hoped for a promotion soon so I could afford the upkeep costs, but I’m not sure that will happen these days,” Nathaniel sighed.

  Sam felt a wave of guilt pour over him. Nathaniel had been one of his most loyal companions and the captain was about to go into debt because his military career had suffered. “Nathan you should return to your command, see if you can patch things up. I would hate for you to be pulled from your duty.”

  Nathan looked at him. “General Sillis told me to report back to her later once you were settled. Don’t fret over me; you have bigger things to worry about right now.”

  The Whitespells’ estate was nestled amongst other prominent senator manors along a side street next to the wall. A large, two story house with white wooden walls and a clay shingled roof. It had a gated front and back yard with a pink cherry blossom tree in front of the house. Haven explained how as a child she would sit at the base of it and read when it bloomed in the springtime, the velvety leaves covering her by the end of the day. As Nathaniel fit the iron key into the lock and the door creaked open, a wave of homely smells escaped the house and blanketed the travelers in its intoxicating aroma. Roasted chestnuts, fresh pies, and a pot-roast that smelled better than even Sam’s mother could have made. “Look’s like Nanny Fran got word of my return,” Nathan said, engorging himself on the sweet aromas wafting from the kitchen.

  “Light's mercy; I haven’t spoken to her in ages,” Haven beamed.

  “Well what are you waiting for then?” Nathan shoved her forward, Haven practically sprinting towards the smells’ origin.

  In the kitchen, amongst an array of cooking pans, assorted utensils, and wearing an apron that was far too big for her, was Nanny Fran. The dwarven woman stood roughly four feet tall, was stout, and could wield a rolling pin better than a warrior his finest sword. She had been the family’s cook, maid, and caretaker for many years. “Nanny Fran!” Haven squealed, spreading her arms out wide in greeting.

  “Well slap me on a ship and call me a barnacle! Where the Damnation yew been girly!?” Fran yelled in a thick drawl. She hopped off her step stool by the sink and waddled over to give Haven a hug.

  Even as short as the golden haired healer was, Fran’s muscular arms only wrapped around her waist. Haven cradled the older woman, placing her cheek on the top of Fran’s head of matted brown hair. “I’ve missed you!” Haven cooed.

  “Nearly a year I been waitin’! Nearly a year with no card, no letter. I been out my right mind!” Fran scolded in the thick dwarven twang, the inflection was common amongst the Children of the Stone.

  “I know, I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you I promise.”

  Fran noticed the rest of the adventurers standing idly in the h
allway. “Ach!” Fran scoffed. “Come in then! I’ll grab the kettle. Wipe yur feet, all ya’ll!”

  After the first home cooked meal the group had eaten since the dragon’s cave, they spread out across the estate to find suitable living quarters. While Haven and Nathaniel occupied their old rooms, the others spread their sleeping mats at various points throughout the manor. Ashtock claimed the den, with hunting trophies mounted around the stone walls and a bearskin rug spread across the floor. David settled onto a long couch in the library and Ahtash took the far corner of the same room next to the fireplace. The elves took to the attic where they could perch on the rooftop to view the city from up high. Sam and April argued over who should get the master bedroom, having been unoccupied since the Whitespell’s parents had passed away many years earlier. “April, you take the bedroom, I can just sleep on the couch in the living room,” Sam said.

  “Sam you’re exhausted. Would you just take the bed? You need it,” April argued.

  “I’m fine,” Sam gently shoved her towards the master bedroom’s door.

  April whirled around, punching Sam’s temple. The man nearly stumbled to the floor had it not been for April catching him. “See? You have a splitting headache, you need to lie down,”

  Sam was having trouble putting words together as April half carried him into the room and laid him on the bed. “Fran will bring you some tea for your head. Get some rest.”

  Sam mumbled something incoherent. April brushed the bangs from his face and shook her head. “You’d think you’d know not to argue with me by now.”

  She walked out of the room and closed the door behind her, leaving Sam to clear his head. Sam sleepily stripped off his boots and equipment, letting his chainmail and armor slump to the floor in a heap. He collapsed onto a goose feather pillow and prayed he didn’t wake up with a concussion. “…clueless about a woman…” He said to himself as he drifted into unconsciousness.

  * * *

  Nathaniel walked through the front gate of the army barracks. He breathed in the smells of the blacksmith hard at work creating and repairing the hundreds of soldier’s equipment. He watched a group of new recruits run by him, their bodies dripping sweat, their lungs heaving. The trainer screamed some profanity at them and they picked up their pace. He could hear the clang of steel on steel as a veteran just returned from the front lines tutored a few fresh soldiers in the sparring pit. All around him he could feel an energy; a brotherhood. He loved being back in Lochmare, the city in which he had grown up. But here, with the army, this was where he felt at home.

  Nathan opened the front door to the main building and travelled down the hall to the general’s office. Sillis was rarely there, she had a war to fight, but her administrative officers worked day and night on troop placements and officer assignments. This was where he was expected to report in as Sillis had instructed. As he opened the door, he saw a large man behind a desk decorated in the rank of Major, one rank above his own. In the corner, a quiet little recruit scribbled away on replicating copies of troop placement orders. Nathan knocked on the door and entered, coming to a rigid stance before the Major and saluting across his chest. “Captain Nathaniel Whitespell, Royal Guard Division, reporting as ordered, Sir,” he stated professionally.

  “Ah yes, the dead Senator’s son,” The Major stood and saluted back. “I’m Major Frederick Nelson, have a seat Captain.”

  Nathan ignored the Major’s crass description of him and did as instructed. “You were A.W.O.L. for quite some time,” The Major said, “We were worried you were among the casualties in the Valley.”

  A.W.O.L. stood for Absent Without Official Leave, and Nathan had expected to be classified as such after the attack. “A proper accountability of personnel was nearly impossible, Sir. The records had to be left behind when the valley fell,” Nathan explained.

  “Yes, terrible business that,” said Major Nelson. “Well, I have your new assignment right here for you, straight from General Sillis herself,” The plump man handed Nathan a stack of papers.

  Nathan scanned over the documents. The assignment caused him some confusion. “Special Liaison to the Guardian of the Wind? Is this some sort of joke?” Nathan placed the papers back on the desk.

  “No joke at all, Captain,” Major Nelson stated. “General Sillis would like regular updates on the Guardian’s actions while inside the city.”

  “Sir, with all due respect, I was hoping for a command position where I could help in the war effort, not to become some spy,” Nathan argued.

  "A command position?" Major Nelson scoffed. "Really?"

  "I don't think it's that outrageous of a request,” Nathan stated.

  Major Nelson sighed and started looking agitated. He pulled out a folder of papers that appeared to be Nathan’s file. “Well let’s see how your last ‘command’ went. You defied the orders of a royal family member, lost a pinnacle piece of territory to the enemy, abandoned your men in a city of known corruption, and the icing on this disastrous cake, allowed the dignitary in your charge to return to Lochmare without you. You’re lucky you’re still in the army at all, son. It says here Prince Edmund recommended you be suspended from further service. Light only knows why General Sillis trusted you with an assignment at all.”

  “There are extenuating circumstances for each one of those allegations, if I could just speak to the general…” Nathan started to argue.

  “I don’t want to hear it, Captain. This is what the General wants you to do and you will do it, or would you prefer to serve the rest of your contractual service period in the brig?” Major Nelson countered. The recruit in the corner had stopped her copying and was awestruck at two officers getting into an argument right in front of her.

  Nathan snatched the papers from where he had placed them and got up to leave. The Major stood and cleared his throat. “Captain Whitespell, you have not been properly dismissed!”

  Nathan stopped, turned professionally and saluted. “By your leave, Major.”

  Major Nelson saluted back, beginning to say something but Nathan turned and slammed the door behind him. The Major shook his head and looked at the recruit in the corner. “What are you gawking at? Get back to work!”

  The recruit jumped in fear, turning back to scribble more words onto the papers. Major Nelson sat in his chair, lit a pipe, and turned to look out the window.

  * * *

  Sam could feel himself being shaken gently. He slid his eyes open to see Haven’s face staring into his. “Good morning…” Sam said groggily.

  “It’s still evening; you’ve only been asleep for a few hours, Sammy,” Haven explained.

  Daisy jumped onto the bed, her large paws stepping onto Sam’s stomach and causing the man to sit up in surprise and pain. The dog licked his face tenderly and wagged her tail. Haven giggled. “Sorry, she’s a little too excited. She’s happy to be home.”

  Sam pet the dog until it relented the assault of slobbery tongue lashings and hopped off the bed. Haven handed Sam some fresh clothes that belonged to Nathaniel and turned around so he could dress. “You have a visitor downstairs,” She said to the wall as Sam garbed himself.

  “Who is it? I don’t really know anyone here,” Sam said standing. “Done.”

  Haven turned back around and smiled. “Lucas Hayze.”

  “The elder prince? What does he want?” Sam asked, slipping into some comfortable city shoes.

  “You’ll have to ask him yourself. He and April are waiting for you in the living room,” Haven said. “Better hurry, you probably wouldn’t want to leave April alone with royalty. There could be blood.”

  Sam rolled his eyes and started for the stairs.

  The living room fireplace was crackling as April put a fresh log onto it. The house was relatively silent in the late evening; Ashtock’s snoring echoing through the hallways from the den. Sam took great care to tip-toe down the stairs and into the living room where he was met by the prince, Lucas Hayze. “Guardian, it is nice to get this chance to meet
. Thank you for taking the time to see me,” Lucas shook Sam’s hand gingerly.

  “The pleasure’s mine, your majesty. What brings you here at such a late hour?” Sam asked, motioning for them to sit.

  “I apologize for the time; there are… individuals… that would not like me meeting with you. I trust you will keep this discussion a secret?” Lucas sat.

  “Have we made so many enemies in the city already?” April grumbled. “It must not be socially acceptable to be seen around us.”

  Lucas shook his head. “It’s nothing as trivial as social popularity. Just trust me when I tell you that not everyone would like to see you succeed in what you promised today to my father. Even if you do succeed, you will still have enemies who plot against you.”

  Sam took in a sigh. He should have known. He couldn’t expect to walk in and rattle a hornet’s nest without angering a few of them inside. “It’s not important. What I must focus on is finding the people of Lochmare enough food to get them through the winter. Then I can concentrate on these schemers.”

  Lucas nodded. “That is why I am here.”

  Prince Lucas pulled out a map and unfurled it on a coffee table. It was a dark ink map of the central borough, complete with every building, street, and guard post. “What’s this for?” Sam asked.

  “You’re not going to find enough food through traditional means. My father has already tried every avenue. We cannot get any foreign power to aid us because of our alliance with Bashawn,” Lucas stated. “You’re going to have to go a more immoral route.”

  April’s eyes flickered at Lucas’ suggestion. “The Black Market,” she said with a grin.

  “Precisely,” Lucas stated. “Now, every underhanded deal, pickpocket, and bit of crime that comes through this city has to pay a cut to the ‘Underlord’. He lives below the streets of the central borough, in what’s commonly known as the Underbelly.”

  “In the foundations of the old fort?” April was completely enthralled with the entire conversation. She had always had a leaning towards the underhanded arts. Seeing as the Valley had little to no crime to speak of, April had satisfied her appetite by studying famous duelists, master thieves, and tales of charming rogues. “How do we get down there?”