The sea air stunk, even after dark when all of the dock workers had either gone home or retired to the pub to drink away the aches of the day. Tonight was no exception, unless the exception was that it was worse.
Star Child Fraius cut off the main road down a dark alley. The cobblestones of the street gave way to dirty mud filled with nightsoil. Fraius thanked himself for remembering to wear his clogs on this trip, else his sandaled feet would have had to step in the raw sewage.
Condensation dripped from the brick walls in the alley, making a tiny little splash when it hit the sewer water he was stepping through. It was a lonesome, unsettling sound that made him nervous. The men huddled together around a fire at the far end of the alley didn’t help. Frauis’ hand unconsciously went to one of the two daggers he wore at his hip.
The door he knocked on was uncomfortably close to the men around the fire. He was wearing his brown coat with the Courageous Order of Heavens star sigil on it. The Children of the Order weren’t liked by much of the populace, often referring to them by the derogatory moniker Star Children.
Insults and mockery were the usual types of assaults on the Children of the Order, but some, including the Shielders, were known to attack on sight. Others assumed the Children were wealthy and would try to rob them. Most didn’t know that those they were trying to rob had significant combat training especially for this reason.
The slit in the door opened up and a pair of dark brown eyes peeked out. Their owner recognizing Fraius, unbolted and open the door for him, quickly ushering him in. He was led through what seemed like never-ending stacks of crates and barrels that formed a strange, dark, maze-like structure, until they came to a door. If the doorman hadn’t brought a torch with them, it would have been pitch black.
“He’s in there,” the man said, pointing at the door. He said nothing else; just walked away, taking the torch with him. The torch slowly faded away until it disappeared completely, leaving Fraius in darkness. He gathered his nerves, opened the door, and stepped through.
What he saw was not what he expected. He knew that when he set up this meeting that he was going to be meeting a recluse. A noble that few ever saw in person anymore. A man who was so afraid of being seen that if a servant accidentally gazed upon him he would be killed.
The room itself was sparse. It appeared to be a warehouse office with all the furniture pushed to the edges of the room, to make space for the massive platform in its center. Was it a dais? Was it a palanquin? Was it a very low wagon? It had elements of all three.
It was a low platform elegantly designed and decorated out of the most expensive exotic woods. Gold and lapis inlays decorated the base in intricate patterns that carried up onto the platform itself. Multidirectional wheels were installed at the four corners and another pair in the middle of the long sides. Thick wooden beams surrounded it that could function as handles and allow a dozen strong men the ability to lift it, though how far they could carry it was a subject up for debate.
Elegant pillows were piled upon the dais, covering nearly every inch of available space. Sitting on the pillows was the fattest man he had ever seen. He only wore an elegant and embroidered green nightshirt that was stained with food and wine. Giant rolls of fat spilled out of every location the nightshirt didn’t cover. There didn’t seem to be a distinction between his shoulders and his head. Thick and heavy gold chains dangled from where his neck had lost its battle with the fat. Massive gold rings encircled his chubby fingers. No wonder this man was a recluse.
There was no reason to guess how he had gotten to this weight. He was surrounded by meats, cakes, bottles of wine and other assorted treats. His enormous belly served as a tray from which he was stuffing the food into his mouth.
“Lord Erias?” he asked.
Lord Erias was the Lord of the Shores. He held a small amount of land along the coast and was heavily involved in the shipping business. He’d made a great deal of money transporting goods around Laryndor. He was one of the founders of the Captain’s Guild, a group of sailors who had banded together to consolidate and exercise their political power.
He had a fleet of ships that included river and sea going vessels. Most were armed better than some kingdom’s navies, including Camulan. That was not why Fraius was here today, but his possession of such a fleet could be useful in the future.
“In the flesh, ample as it is,” was the reply. Lord Erias’ unkempt beard was the home to food scraps and an army of lice, judging by the way he kept scratching at it. He picked at the food on his beard and stuffed it into his mouth, not caring enough to distinguish between old food in his beard and any that had newly landed.
“You’re the representative from the Star Children?”
“I am, lord. Star Child Fraius.”
Erais grabbed a nearby cake. “What do you want? Why has your master arranged this secretive meeting?” he asked, spraying food from his mouth as he spoke.
Fraius was disgusted by this man. How could he have allowed himself to get so big? What would make food more important than mobility? If Fraius wanted to, he could, and probably should kill this travesty of a human where he stood, or lay, as it were.
“My master, Star Lord Longinous would like to know how you like your gifts?”
The fat lord laughed, spraying chunks of food from his mouth. Most landed on his massive girth, which he just picked up and continued to eat. “Your lord sent you all the way here, forced me out of my palace for this meeting just to ask how I liked some trinkets? I doubt that.”
“And also, to remind you of your obligations.”
“My obligations? Your lord is persistent.” Erais threw a half-eaten chunk of meat at Fraius, who was able to easily dodge the poorly thrown projectile. “You tell your lord that I will fulfill my obligations on my schedule. He needn’t worry, Commodore Tyrec will be standing by—he’s already on speaking terms with the royal family. Now begone. I want to be away from this place.”
Two men armed with halberds stepped out of the darkness and ushered him through the door he’d come in from. Fraius hadn’t seen them. He would have to punish himself for that. If this meeting had gone sour, they would have crushed his skull with those polearms.
Who else was hiding in the shadows? He looked around nervously, but the room was still pitch black. Was he going to have to find his way out of here on his own? He didn’t bring a lamp or torch with him. Why would he have needed one?
Finally, the doorman returned with his flickering, fear-defeating torch, and escorted him out of the building. Fraius couldn’t help but look into the darkness and wonder if an assassin’s arrow was going to come from one of the dark recesses and end his life.
None came. The doorman opened the door and shoved him out without another word. The men around the fire were still there, staring lustfully at the purse tied to his belt. He knew what they wanted. They would not get it.
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He hurried back down the alley. He could feel the three men’s eyes. He didn’t want to look back and risk them knowing he knew, so he kept walking, putting his body into a state of readiness.
He heard the footsteps before he saw the knife. He dodged to his left, spun, and drew his daggers in one smooth motion. The alley tough’s knife was still in motion. The daggers in Frauis’ quick hands pierced the tough’s torso six times before the man’s arm completed its motion. The would-be assassin stumbled forward, dropped his knife and fell face-first into the sewage.
The other two men came to a quick stop, turned, and ran the other direction. Fraius thought to pursue them for a moment, then thought better of it. They may have reinforcements waiting around the corner. He stepped over the body and continued out of the alley.
He needn’t worry about the city guard finding him. They barely patrolled this section of town in the daytime, and were almost nonexistent at night, unless something major occurred on the docks. The owners of pubs and warehouses employed private guards to protect their interests. Hire-hands were much more willing to use deadly force than the city guards, and it kept most of the dock dwellers in line, unless someone was caught somewhere alone like he was.
*
The road to Teorton was longer than Alaric remembered, and hotter. In his youth, he could make the journey in less than a week, given a series of strong horses he could change to on the way. It was different now. He was old and tired. Being the general of Fort Camulan meant that he had to travel with guards; a commodity his fort could scarcely afford to lose, but he had been recalled by Lord-General Harmin, so he had to go.
When someone of his rank traveled, it wasn’t just the guards he brought with him. He also had to equip and feed them. Many of them were married and were rotating to other assignments, so they brought their families. In a carriage behind him, was his wife, along with their servant, and other members of the household retinue.
Traveling with so many people was slow, and slow irritated him, even if he was old now and probably couldn’t keep up the pace he wanted. His joints ached, and the saddle wasn’t as comfortable as he would have liked.
At his age, here was only one reason to recall the commander of Fort Camulan: he was being decommissioned. He was well past the age when most generals retired. He saw no reason to. Even if his body had broken down, his mind was still sharp. It wasn’t like he ever went out into the field anymore. Why would he? That was a risk to his command and the stability of the fort. If he were killed in action, the whole command structure would be in disarray.
He was sure that the Fenn’s spies would recognize that he had left and may take this opportunity to attack. He’d left Field Commander Boede in charge during his absence. Boede was a competent tactician and commander, though he fell a bit short on the politics and charisma a general needed. He normally was Alaric’s representative in the field when the general couldn’t be there himself, so it was natural for him to assume temporary command of the fort in his absence.
He wondered what he would do in his retirement. He was old for a soldier, but he still had many years of life ahead of him. He might go back to his ancestral home, where his older brother was earl, if his older brother would still have him. They’d had a falling out many years ago and hadn’t spoken since.
He didn’t want to retire. Commanding Fort Camulan was his purpose. He didn’t care about politics; he didn’t care to be appointed to a more prestigious position. He wanted to command his men. They looked up to him. They cared for him, and he cared for them.
But, he supposed, all things must come to an end, including his command. He’d just hoped his end would come on the battlefield, and not in bed. He was a soldier; his sword should be in his hand when he died. He should be surrounded by his fellow soldiers and the corpses of his enemies, not on a soft bed surrounded by servants and loneliness.
He sighed. If that was his fate, then that was his fate. He would face it with the same courage he had faced death with on the battlefield. He was, after all, a soldier.
*
Fraius had spent the night in an inn on the border of the docks instead of making his way to his home, Star Base Teorton. Things around the area were getting too dangerous. He’d spotted several dozen toughs eyeing him as he walked. Fortunately, he had no encounters with them. He’d just made his way to a place called Halfway Inn and got a room. Star Lord Longinus would not like it, but he had to think about his safety.
Star Base Teorton was the local temple for the Courageous Order of the Heavens. It wasn’t as big as the one in Kaenshire, but it was more important, being so close to the seat of power in Camulan. Their main temple, the Fortress of Heaven, was in Branson’s Fork, far to the east of Teorton.
Lord Longinus had made the long trek to Teorton just for this mission. The Fortress of Heaven was his normal home and the seat of power for their entire religion. The lord didn’t like to be kept waiting, but it would do their mission no purpose if Fraius had been killed.
A man thumped on the door to his room. “There’s a carriage for you here, sir.”
A carriage? No one knew he was here. How could a carriage have come for him? “I didn’t order a carriage,” he said.
“Nevertheless, sir. The carriage is here for you. I suggest you take it.”
Was there a threat in his comment? It sure sounded like one. If it came down to a fight, he could certainly handle himself, unless of course, there was magic involved. That was a possibility, one that he had to be ready for.
Still, there was a hint of urging in his tone. Maybe it wasn’t a threat after all and the man was just concerned for Fraius’ welfare. He decided to risk it. He gathered up his things and headed downstairs.
The carriage was waiting for him on the cobblestone street. It was a non-descript black carriage with two wheels; matching shades covered the windows. A man dressed in fine wool sat atop the coach box holding the reins.
“Get in,” he said gruffly. Fraius had expected him to climb down and open the door for him, but he didn’t budge. Fraius had to open the door himself and climb in. He nearly slipped on the step but caught himself at the last second.
Another passenger was already inside, dressed in a fine silk robe with the Courageous Order of Heavens star sigil prominently emblazoned on the chest. A tall hat that mimicked the sigil sat nearby. It was Star Lord Longinus. He had come personally to get him. That did not bode well.
“Your Radiance!” he exclaimed and made an attempt to bow as best he could and kissed the Star Ring on his middle finger when the lord’s hand was extended.
“Sit down,” Longinus said. Fraius shut the door and obeyed. The star lord knocked on the side of the carriage and it lurched into motion.
“How did you know where I was, lord?”
In response, Longinus just looked at him for a moment and then looked ahead. Was it magic or spies? It could have been either. The star lord had both in great quantities.
“Your mission was a failure,” he said. “We cannot allow a noble to treat you so dismissively. Erias will fulfil his obligation, or he will be punished. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Your Radiance.” Fraius answered. How had he known what Lord Erias had said? If Longinus knew, why had he bothered to send Fraius in the first place?
“These nobles are not giving us the proper respect. We need to teach them a lesson. We need to remind them that they and their family are not as safe as they think they are.”
He was right. None of the nobles he had visited had treated him with the fear and respect that he deserved. At times they were dismissive as Lord Erias had been. At other times they were downright hostile. Sometimes they physically assaulted him. Fraius had wished to defend himself, but if he had, they would have petitioned the king, and everything they had been working for would be undone. So Fraius had to take his beatings.
“What did you have in mind, lord?”
“Someone needs to die,” Longinus said. “Someone who the nobility thinks are untouchable.”
An excellent idea. There was nothing like an assassination to scare people into compliance. He had done it many times.
“Who, Your Radiance?”
Perhaps Erias’ son, or maybe is daughter? Which one did he dote on more? It would be the daughter. Longinus wanted to send a message, but to kill the heir would be going too far. That could have unpredictable results, especially considering that Lord Erias had no other sons to pass his title down to and was too sexist to consider passing it down to his daughter, even though there were no laws against women holding royal titles.
“I will be returning to the Fortress soon, so I don’t wish you to dally, but be discreet about it. We don’t want anyone to be able to tie this directly back to us. We just want a hint that we may have been responsible. Of course, if asked I will deny it, but I will include enough subtext to hint that this is something we have the power to do.”
“Who, lord? Who do you want me to kill?”
Star Lord Longinus looked at Fraius and cracked a smile. His crooked and stained teeth gave his face a sinister look. It unsettled Fraius because he knew the horrors his lord was capable of. He held the gaze for an eternity.
Then he spoke, “I want you to kill the king’s youngest son, Prince Aeolwyn.”