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Princess Elsanne Eikenaar
‘Jade Eyes’
‘Fair’ Anne Burton
Three Hundred
Part III
-That’s just the name of the outfit-
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> In late summer, the year one and ninety of the New Calendar, the Commander of the ‘Three Hundred’ (also abbreviated 300, ‘Gold Contract’, among others) Tussio D’Orsi, was ordered in an urgent communique from Bank of Trust’s President of the Board Claus Viceroy, to proceed with solving Kaltha’s so called ‘heir’ problem. Viceroy had been elevated to his position by the aging majority owner Federico Mclean two years earlier and was acting under his instructions according to the gossip of the time. The matter had gone into a contested vote before the Board released the funds for the company to move.
>
> The reason why the large military outfit (the Three Hundred was a well-drilled small army, one of Mclean & Merck’s three private armies employed -the others being Ley’s Boars and the famed Iron Fists- numbering just under a thousand soldiers, split in three divisions of three hundred, whence the name derived), was stationed in Eikenport at the time, has never been disclosed. Also present in the remote city was the company’s old leader and infamous bounty hunter Lear Hik the ‘Butcher of Drek River’, supposedly retired at the time. Hik had been accused of heinous crimes during the northern warbands and Sovya’s rebellion a decade in the past and had been forced to step down by the late Lord Lennox.
>
> Director Holt, a leading member of the Board and distant cousin to the aged Duke of Asturia, resigned in protest after serving the bank for twenty five years when a letter from Lord Anker Est Ravn was read to them, citing irate in a memo to his cousin that ‘a bank’s Board picking heirs is but a royal Council wit another name and I’ve no plaguing interest in this kind of malarkey.’
>
> Commander D’Orsi, himself first cousin to Jacomo D’Orsi Baron of Atetalerso -the latter another bank shareholder- ordered Captain Nathanyel Wyncall to intercept the invading force of Baron Van Durren (Badum had two Barons serving it at the time, one on each continent. The reason given in the previous chapter) and inform them of Kaltha’s Council and the Bank’s agreement. Lord Anker never produced a copy of the meeting, nor did he accept this version of events maintaining the Bank acted on their own.
>
> Wyncall landed at Devil’s Cove that summer and rushed after the slow moving host, catching up with them at Tirifort. There he opted to follow after Sir Gust De Weer and Sir Vegenuur’s knights when they decided to cut through the desert directly for Eikenport.
>
> Whether his presence influenced Sir Gust’s increasingly erratic actions is difficult to figure out years after the events. Captain Wyncall made the journey with forty riders, Sir Vegenuur had about thirty knights from the First Foot (or heavy cavalry), a force smaller than Sir Gust’s over two hundred men-at-arms and knights answering to him. The rest of the mauled though still considerable Scaldingport’s force (the Issirs had difficulty treating even the simplest of injuries after the battle, losing four in five men) stayed with the Baron under Captain De Moss. Sir Jan Reuter and Sir Mael Bolte two of the better knights of their era and priests of the order of Tyeus had followed Sir Gust’s daring thrust into the unknown.
>
> D’Orsi’s second order of business was to secure the ports and while the Cofols left behind by Prince Radin couldn’t stand against his force, he refrained from provoking them as most of his company was stationed inside their district and opted to strong-arm the pirate side instead. It must be noted that based on the sources and memoirs that have survived, the so called ‘pirate’ part of the ancient city was the poorest and biggest, with just over ten thousand people mainly families crammed in there.
>
> The pirate captains sent word to Lord’s Burrow, a then unknown stronghold/base of operations for urgent reinforcements, sailing their ships out of the port and enforcing a brutal blockade that enraged the local Cofol commander disrupting trade.
>
> Blockade, or not though, there was no force inside the city big enough to challenge the mercenary company from taking over, or foolish enough to openly challenge them as they conducted their thorough search of every neighborhood. That is until they reached the so called ‘wall of Garth’ and got themselves mixed up with the real criminal underworld of Eikenport.
[https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv3fPxogVVRBOEdW5mKKSeZ2lZwou0WFvC8uF4hJR0v_CnR8PBfrG3KzfTIUpK87Qt52JoJpgnijF6zn9rTuknQnhJFWtaWYD9NS4U75XQeX4pY1HgWZDaFED5aAoA2RMA9HG5E5HJQGfY3vdq-2HXHspw3VVT687WSML2GeJ9IhnBUkap9Nvsy91j/s2000/Eikenport%20city%20fu.png]
Hey, that’s weird, Elsanne thought. The heat got to me, I’m seeing small people.
There was one standing next to the stressed, but very intriguing pirate Stiles, the thick beard the little guy sported reaching his knees.
“Ahm, is there…?” she started unsure, the clothes she had on were sticking on her body drenched in sweat and despite dousing her head in the bathtub Elsanne still felt hot. “Are you one of the Folk?” She asked in a hesitant manner.
“Are ye talkin’ about the darn Dwarf?” Stiles asked, appearing deeply troubled all of a sudden. Ido Katers gasped as he’d missed the small creature’s entrance.
“Norec Trollfall, a member of the Builders Guild,” the dwarf introduced himself with a scowl directed to his… partner? “Pay the fool little attention your grace.”
“Nice to make your acquaintance Master Norec,” Elsanne said politely. “Will you accept my apologies for the ruse?”
“No need for that,” Norec replied courtly with a rare grin. “You had your reasons.”
Elsanne glanced at the roguish pirate leader. “I’ve placed a burden on you as well mister Stiles.”
“Ah,” Stiles scrunched his jaw and fiddled with the hat in his hands nervously. Elsanne had been twice as nervous a moment ago and feverish from the shock of almost fainting inside that awful barrel. Reed’s idea utterly insane in the end. “I’ve sent them away after refusing their coin and asking for twice the amount they’d offered, but they’ll be back.”
“I see,” Elsanne replied with a frown. “Will you accept their improved offer?”
Stiles blinked, the black leather patch moving on his narrow face. “There will be no second offer… how should I call you?”
“I won’t impose rules while I’m taking advantage of your hospitality Mister Stiles,” Elsanne said trying to be friendly. Stiles blinked again, Norec snorted and Sigurd’s man standing guard at the door narrowed his eyes unhappy.
“Well then,” Stiles finally said. “As I said Anne, I expect no second offer any time soon.”
“Why is that?”
“No fool would ever have refused the first offer Anne. Why, it sounds foolhardy rehashing it,” the pirate expounded. “Unless said fool had you hidden and was committed… not to give you up. Now that I know more, I can understand their motivation better.”
“You are… committed not to give me up?” Elsanne asked him with a blush and Stiles shifted nervously on his feet, visibly uncomfortable for some reason, or just having second thoughts.
“Let us not use such loaded words,” he finally muttered with difficulty sounding sincere. “See what they’ll do next first.”
“That sounds prudent,” Elsanne agreed, although she’d have preferred him to be more enthusiastic, or committed, she would take a truthful statement as an alternative.
He sighed and grimaced again all tensed up. “I will leave you for now,” Stiles finally added and walked hurriedly out of the room.
Norec snorted, shook his large head right and left –it was almost the size of his torso- then offered a slight nod to Elsanne and went after him.
“Reed will notify the others,” priest Katers said the moment they were alone. Elsanne had met him earlier that day while discussing how to deal with the situation. One of the three agents Sigurd had brought along, unless he was lying. Burton had insisted not to trust him and Jasi wasn’t impressed with Kaltha’s Master of Silence as well. Elsanne who knew the court’s machinations was Lord Bach’s most ardent supporter it seemed. “I suggest we leave the city soon,” her guard added.
“They probably watch the roads and gates,” Elsanne replied.
“The pirate might sell you out, your grace.”
“That is very rude Mister Katers,” she admonished him. “He appears friendly.”
“Of course your grace,” the man replied pressing his mouth tight.
“You don’t agree,” Elsanne murmured.
“No I don’t your grace. The man’s interest is there, but it has nothing to do with him helping, if this turns ugly. And it will.”
Hmm.
“You believe he’s interested?” She asked neutrally.
“Your grace, this is not the time—”
“Not the time for what mister Katers?” Elsanne cut him off.
The Issir rubbed his face with a hand and grimaced not wanting to answer all of a sudden.
“I overstepped,” he finally said.
“This isn’t going to work out,” Elsanne told him austerely. “You either work for me mister Katers, or for Lord Bach. I’d like your opinion stated in a respectful manner, even if I don’t agree with it.”
Katers sighed.
“The man could take advantage of you, or worse,” he finally blurted out. “He has the power right now.”
“He’s a member of the brotherhood,” Elsanne explained. “That would bring him against the pirates and anger his boss. The mysterious man above him. Mister Stiles is caught in a dilemma it is true, but liking me doesn’t harm our chances. Am I wrong?”
“I don’t believe you are your grace.”
“Is that what you truly believe?” Elsanne probed him further.
“Not really your grace,” Katers grunted. “I think it’s still too risky, but was trying to placate you.”
“Not on these matters,” Elsanne replied suavely. “But I don’t want you turning into a brute mister Katers. That would be unpleasant.”
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Elsanne spent the next hour exploring the large bedroom covering the whole floor of the small tower. The princess wanted to change her clothes, as staying in that foul smelling barrel had made what she was wearing now reek of cheap booze, but she wasn’t about to start undressing even with Katers standing outside her door.
It was out of sense and not lack of options, as she’d found articles of clothing in a dresser. Silks and fine cotton robes, tiny undergarments of fine quality covered in jewelry and even shoes. This was a woman’s bedroom. A woman of considerable wealth, she thought and Stiles doesn’t appear to be the marrying type.
Why on Uher’s name would you think of that?
It was that whole ‘Nine Lives’ thing. Elsanne had been intrigued from all this talk of shadowy outlaws, pirate lords and secret organizations. It was as if her heart had felt a strange affinity for this crowd, her ancestor’s blood rejoicing to be surrounded again by his kind.
That sense of adventure, the excitement, the plans and the danger.
Freedom.
You are a Princess of Kaltha, she admonished herself. Snap out of it.
“Mister Katers?”
The Priest of Oras opened the door and walked inside. “Will you escort me downstairs?” She asked him.
“Would that be wise?”
“Perhaps not, but it is what I want,” she replied firmly.
“As you wish your grace,” Katers replied without hesitation and stepped aside to allow her passage.
Elsanne paused at the fence separating the tower’s small yard –containing a stable and the kitchen- from the large street heading to the distant south gates. Garth’s District had an even bigger wall built as a border to the rest of Eikenport. The district itself a mismatch of ancient buildings, wooden structures, an amphitheater, barracks, warehouses and a flat top Mastaba. All kinds of people were moving about, a lot of children.
Elsanne let the breath she was holding out slowly and stepped on the old granite-tiles street.
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A woman carrying a large basket filled with washed at the river clothes, paused seeing the princess pass her by and a cutthroat blinked once, the scar on his face contorting when he smiled at her. Elsanne walked past the large black Mastaba and cut through the slave quarters, immediately recognizing their inhabitants from the marks of ownership and the collars. Through a lightly forested area to another neighborhood dominated by newly constructed wooden houses and then past the foul smelling workshops, to reach the market.
She spent her time perusing what was on offer, surprised by the friendly and calm demeanor of the people working the stands. These were refugees from Rida, whole families uprooted, most probably having relatives lost in the chaos that followed the Khan taking the city.
“They burned the city,” a merchant selling tools his blacksmith brother was making told her, when she dared the question. “Everything inside the walls gone.”
“That’s horrible,” Elsanne said.
“That’s war lass,” the merchant agreed looking at her and then at the silent Katers. “What’s an Issir like you doing in this part of Eikenport?”
“Seeking refuge I suppose,” Elsanne said.
“Aren’t we all?” the man teased with a smile. “Thank the gods for Lord Reeves, but don’t tell him I told ye that,” he added and gave her a wink.
Elsanne wetted her lips surprised. “Lord Reeves?”
The merchant nodded. “Garth, he got us out of Rida. Kept the road open for long enough. Made a deal for this place and gave the people shelter.”
“Lord…” the man placed his index finger on his lips signaling for her to keep her voice down. “Mister Garth,” Elsanne muttered. “Built this? I heard he’s a criminal.”
“It don’t bother me none,” the merchant replied. “That’s his business. Did more for us than the King back in Kaltha.”
“The King sent the army,” Elsanne reminded him.
“The King had a lot of good people killed,” the man countered. “He should have negotiated with the Khan.”
“The Duke wouldn’t have abdicated,” Elsanne argued. “And you would prefer living under the Khan’s rule?”
“Better than being dead lass, by far. How is losing face equate to what the people suffered?”
Elsanne pouted and stared at his tools.
“You won’t find what yer looking for here,” the merchant said after a moment. “So it’s better ye get going now lass. Can’t showcase my stuff if yer standing in the way.”
Elsanne stood back affronted, but Katers placed a hand on her waist, the gesture helping get her frustration under control.
“I wish you a good day sir,” she told the Lorian merchant frostily and turned to walk away with Katers in tow.
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“Anne?” Jasi gasped seeing her returning to the main street, standing outside the Watch Tower. “Where have you been?”
“Went for a walk,” Elsanne replied. “When did you arrive?”
“I came with Sigurd and Burton,” Jasi explained. “Barely made it through the patrols. They have surrounded the city.”
“The mercenaries?”
If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“Yes, they’ve posted guards on every gate looking for you,” Jasi explained, just as Sigurd stepped out of the tower’s door and approached them walking briskly.
“They are not looking for her,” Sigurd said and glared at Katers. “They know where she is. This is their excuse to cordon Garth’s District.”
“Are they going to force their way in?” Elsanne asked.
“As a last measure,” Sigurd replied and grimaced. “Or they’ll cut us off completely and starve us out. It’s a matter of time, whether they have it, or not.”
“Do the others know?” Elsanne asked.
“They are talking about it,” Sigurd said and stared over his shoulder. “Inside.”
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An officer wearing a chainmail shirt under a brown leather cuirass that had a dog carved on his chest in black ink with its tail folded and protruding between its hind legs, caught her attention.
Good gods it looks like a cock! Who thought of this?
The Lorian raised his brows, the thin mustache on his upper lip following suit.
Stiles was sitting on a chair behind his desk, the first floor of the small tower being his office, with Burton, a man named Clint and Norec standing across from him. Norec was literally standing on top of a chair, with his hands on the table.
“Eh, the princess is found,” Stiles commented, looking strained. “That’s one problem out of the way. Captain Ottis, you were saying?”
Ottis ignored him and stepped forward to bow his head sharply. “Your grace, the Dogs shall provide any assistance you might need.”
“Why, thank you Captain,” Elsanne smiled liking his spirit.
“I served in Rida’s city guard your grace,” Ottis added returning the smile. “We did our outmost to defend the city.”
“I’m sure you did Captain. I’m saddened more help didn’t reach you in time.”
“No amount of help could have defeated the Khan’s armies that day your grace,” Ottis replied readily. “Not unless Kaltha send every man it had to fight there. And even that is questionable.”
Ah.
“Captain,” Stiles intervened. “While we all would love to chat with Anne… her highness was my meaning, there’s a bit of a problem dropped in my lap mate, I’m pretty eager to solve. Eager is an understatement just so we’re on the same page.”
“We can’t fight them off,” Norec said staring at the map of the city, they had opened on the desk.
“What do they have across the city center’s gates?” Stiles asked Ottis.
“A division they call it,” Ottis replied. “Three hundred men. Another is gathering six streets to the north, coming from the pirate district.”
“Most crews left already. We couldn’t stop them at such short notice,” Burton agreed. “But they will be back.”
“Wait, how many soldiers do they have?” Elsanne asked.
“Under a thousand,” Sigurd said, standing behind her.
“That doesn’t make sense,” Elsanne murmured.
“Ah, I’m afraid that’s just the name of the outfit your grace,” Ottis replied.
“Would they assault our wall?” Stiles asked him.
“Not much of a wall for a determined army,” Ottis said with a frown and stooped over the map. “But also narrow streets here and here, ruins in between, difficult to pack enough men for a push. A small group can defend on narrow ground.”
“What about the center?” Stiles asked him. “Or the Sopat Gate?”
“We have good towers there, two scorpio’s at the center as well,” Ottis reminded him.
“I don’t feel the enthusiasm in yer words Captain,” Stiles noticed. “Be it because there isn’t any?”
“That’s a lot of men.”
“How many do you have?” Sigurd asked him.
“Close to five hundred,” Ottis replied and Stiles whistled.
“Fuck’s sake, I’m paying Ron in blood for those darn worker crews!” he hissed irate. “You could’ve helped me out there mate!”
“The men need training in the blade Stiles, not digging.”
“That’s what you say, sure hope all this training worth something.”
“What if they cut us off?” Sigurd intervened. “Or hit the wall from outside the city?”
“We’ll see them and as for cutting us off that would anger the Cofols, it’s one thing to stop trade with the pirates, no offense mister Burton,” Ottis said and the tavern keeper shrugged his shoulders. “Another to take over the city.”
“Can they stop them?” Elsanne asked.
“It doesn’t’ matter,” Sigurd told her. “We can’t allow them to learn about you, your grace.”
“We need to ask for Ron’s help,” Stiles argued.
“You’ll trust a Cofol?” Sigurd snapped and Stiles stood back on his chair and stared at him.
“Ron is family,” he said measuring his words. “Garth is married to his cousin.”
Elsanne frowned not expecting it. “Aren’t the Sopat out of the Peninsula?” she asked the one-eyed pirate.
“Born and bred,” Stiles replied with a taunting smile. “The bedroom upstairs was Sen-Iv’s, Garth’s wife.”
Hmm.
“I see,” Elsanne said simply.
“Will they keep the secret from the Prince?” Sigurd insisted. “Would the local commander agree to it?”
“He will,” Stiles said. “They own him.”
“Stiles we need to disrupt their operation,” Norec suggested thoughtfully. “They are behaving as if they have all the time in the world. Even if they don’t fear the pirates, the Prince might return, or she could slip through the noose, but they don’t seem to hurry. I don’t like this.”
“They moved pretty fast,” Stiles argued. “So I don’t know what yer talking about.”
“That was strange also,” Norec agreed. “Not much time to inform their employer about her being here.”
“Why were they here in the first place?” Elsanne asked curious.
“Another matter,” Stiles replied leaving it at that.
“Unless they knew in advance,” Sigurd said.
“The Bank is working with Antoon?” Stiles asked him.
“Antoon is not in charge, this matter must have been discussed aforehand and measures put in place. Months in advance,” Sigurd replied. “Perhaps the plan was to march on Dia originally, but the Princess helped them coming here.”
“She has allies here,” Burton reminded him.
Sigurd snorted. “How are you going to take the docks back? With four ships?”
Stiles chuckled and Sigurd turned on him annoyed. “You find it funny?”
“Nah, I don’t,” Stiles replied truthfully. “But here we are trying to save her skin, whilst your contribution is a couple of lords back in Jelin that may, or may not throw her to the wolves.”
Sigurd grimaced the insult cutting him deep.
“Mister Stiles that wasn’t helpful at all, or polite,” Elsanne admonished him and Stiles laughed some more.
“I ain’t polite Anne for sure, just as this dude isn’t helpful,” he retorted.
“I trust him,” Elsanne said pursing her lips.
Stiles sighed and stared at the map of the ancient city.
“Will Yellow Dawson come through?” He asked Burton.
“Dawson brought her into the brotherhood,” Burton replied glancing her way. “You know how he is and he has Atterton’s ear. They’ll bring everyone, rather than risk breaking his word.”
“A matter of honor,” Stiles murmured and rubbed his face with both hands. “Fuck.”
Eh.
“The Lord’s blood,” Burton agreed simply with a nod.
“What in Oras black heart does that mean?” Sigurd snapped.
“Damn ye all be to vile Abrakas gullet, if ye allow me kin to perish,” Stiles recited from memory with a shiver and Burton shrugged his shoulders. Seeing the rest of the men and woman present weren’t privy to the cryptic meaning of the words he added. “Last Article.”
Which in retrospect offered little in the way of clarification.
> D’Orsi’s right hand man Captain of Division Three, Tony Ramos of the distant Parmaport, found himself unwelcomed in the mysterious Garth District, a separate part of the city under the control of the infamous eponymous crimelord, who hadn’t be seen in months by that time. Whether lost, gone, or dead –for all intents and purposes killed in a dispute with his lieutenants- the leadership of the District refused to allow the mercenaries to walk past the wall.
>
> Given the presence of another mercenary company stationed near the black Mastaba of Eikenport, a pyramid structure not as grand as the Red Pyramid of Rida, but quite a famous tourist attraction today, Ramos parked his men before the gates and blocked the city’s center main road, not wanting to attack the Gallant Dogs.
>
> The Gallant Dogs a rather unknown company then, was formed half a dozen years before the events described here in the city of Castalor by late Dante Blackwood. The now rather well-known Captain had been killed defending Helfort’s Pass against the forces of Prince Nout at the start of the war. The late Captain’s surname hinting at the old noble Lorian family ruling Quarterport centuries ago and well before Reinut’s conquests.
>
> It was now led by an unknown Gish according to gossip but was effectively under the command of Captain Ottis a former Rida officer, who was in turn presumably employed by the unnamed criminal now in charge of the walled district known as Nine Lives.
>
> It’s impossible to know the size of the Dogs today, or even the number of civilians living behind the wall. The ‘Dogs’ have remained a distant secretive outfit until this day, taking part in almost every conflict between the years one ninety and one ninety five, especially after they switched employers to the Monarch of Goras after the events in Eikenport.
>
> D’Orsi opted to wait for Wyncall’s return and more legitimacy, forcing in the meantime a brutal so called ‘curfew for maintaining order’ inside the pirate district. He moved a division outside the walls and tried to block every possible route, attempting to strangle those behind the walls of supplies. He was certain the Princess had found asylum there. It is beyond the pale how he was certain about it, or what would Princess Elsanne be doing in Eikenport of all places, given that the Prince’s wives customary either traveled with him, or stayed home, since it was forbidden in the Khanate for women to travel on their own. Prince Radin’s ‘home’ being in this case the distant Dia Castle near Jade Lake.
>
> The days turned into a week, then two. A famine broke out in the city, mainly the pirate district and mercenaries started dealing foodstuff for sex, or other favors. Nine Lives found himself in trouble as well, his own part of the city -also sheltering a large number of refugees from Rida- suffering immensely. Despite that he held fast especially after the Dogs managed to secure access to the river in a daring assault out of the south gates.
>
> With people falling sick and the unaffected Cofols unable to negotiate a deal with the mercenaries, an undeclared war broke out amidst the narrow alleys and the ancient buildings with the mercenaries trying to prevent the criminals from resupplying the parts of the city suffering the most.
>
> D’Orsi built three large gallows after demolishing the Black Market and executed every person caught aiding and abetting the gangs plaguing his plan. In a city that three quarters of the population lived under no law at all, his attempt to remedy the situation backfired and the gangs that had probably being fighting each other as well up until that point turned to Nine Lives for a solution.
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Stiles grunted, his sole eye gleaming in anger. Wake himself equally enraged set his feet, unwilling to back down that is until the big Cofol Dob grabbed him by the neck and lifted him clean off the floor.
“Goodness me,” Elsanne gasped seeing the desperate man kicking his legs trying to escape the steely grip, but fainting fast.
“That’s enough, idiot turned blue in the face,” Stiles rustled and Dob lowered the half-unresponsive gang leader. He had to keep holding him upright as Wake’s legs had turned to rubber. “Let me try this again,” Stiles continued tiredly. “Sid agreed to give us the patrol routes and times, in exchange for access through the Sopat Gate for his marauders.
“Would the Cofols agree?” Sigurd asked.
“They won’t put it on paper, if that’s what yer angling for,” Stiles elucidated, his tone taunting.
“This Sid, what does he really want in exchange?”
“Weapons, armour.”
“You’ll arm them?” Wake croaked holding his swollen throat. “How are we to take our streets back?”
“I don’t give a rusty copper for yer asphalt Wake,” Stiles admonished him. “I have kids and womenfolk eating fodder and me broth’rs are dropping dead in the other district!”
“Since when do you—?” Wake tried to argue, but Stiles signaled Dob to grab him by the neck again to calm him down.
Ugh.
“That’s true,” Burton said, his face strained. “D’Orsi hanged twenty six people this weekend. Tossed their bodies in the harbor to feed the fish.”
Elsanne clenched her fists tightly. “We must talk with them,” she whispered and Stiles glanced at her.
“This won’t end with a deal Anne,” he said and stared at Sigurd.
“The company is the Bank’s sledgehammer,” Sigurd explained. “They’ll flatten any disagreements and get what they want.”
“I don’t understand how this is allowed, that’s criminal Sigurd!” Elsanne snapped not believing her ears.
“Yet, it has happened again your grace,” Sigurd replied with a grimace. “It’s how the Duke of Sovya was dragged to the negotiating table. The company had captured a large number of prisoners outside Drek River. Did in a week what the Legion and the king’s armies couldn’t do in years. It wasn’t about honor, or grievances in the end, but the need for the timber flow to continue.”
“What does this mean? What are you implying Sigurd?” Elsanne asked him feeling her stomach turning.
Stiles cleared his throat and glanced at the map showing the routes in and out of the city, the large parch of land to the North remaining sparsely populated as it bordered the edge of the harsh desert they called Cameltoe Peninsula.
“I asked you a question Sigurd!” Elsanne hissed angry at his guilty silence.
“There’s no bloodless agreement in politics your grace,” Sigurd finally said. “Even less so when you’re dealing with war.”
“My father was grieving and away from the front,” Elsanne reminded him, what he should know very well. “He wasn’t a monster!”
“That doesn’t absolve him, men took it upon themselves to do what was necessary Elsanne,” Sigurd said. “Men working for him, brought the Duke to the negotiating table and yes the bank had helped then.”
“Men like you,” Elsanne hissed.
Sigurd stood back visibly hurt by her words. “I worked all my life to give you a chance to rule. This is your chance to change things. But they aren’t going to give it to you, they rather kill you instead.”
What?
“You can’t be serious!” Elsanne snapped, her face flushed. “Only criminals would ever think of laying waste to a royal and a woman at that!” Several of the criminals inside the room blinked, but opted not to speak.
“Criminals didn’t kill your nephew and his child bride,” Sigurd reminded her. “Or your brother and mother.”
“It was an accident!” Elsanne fired back furious and hurting at the memory. Why would he bring it up?
“No it wasn’t,” Sigurd replied clenching his mouth, as if a load on his shoulders was weighing him down. “The driver led the carriage over the cliff at Jaw Castle and into Reinut’s Gulf rocky shores. At least five knights witnessed it.”
“Why?” Elsanne croaked and stepped back.
“Prince Kasper’s death wasn’t an accident, the same goes for your younger brother and queen mother,” Sigurd answered tiredly. “I fear the ‘Three Hundred’ are here to make sure you never step foot on Jelin again your grace.”
No.
“That’s enough mate,” Stiles warned the Issir, seeing her breaking down sobbing. “We are well aware where this is going. Give her a fuckin’ break.”
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Elsanne watched the moons shed their light over the sleeping city in silence. She stood at the top of the Watch Tower, the torches burning at the gates visible and beyond them the lights of the soldiers camping at the main street.
She had left the men to discuss their plans and wasn’t present at the meeting with Sid Cross, an outlaw from beyond their wall. Elsanne was haunted by memories of her mother, her eyes now dry, but her heart heavy. The warm night oppressing and ominous. She felt lonely despite all the people working to help her. Elsanne realized she had no friends, everyone around her driven by different reasons, or codes. Ambitions, fear and greed, she thought sadly.
You’re still a god darn furniture.
She heard someone coming up the stairs and crossed her arms on her chest trying to get her feelings under control. Stiles walked next to her and placed his hands on the parapet, the hat he had on for some reason despite the late hour, concealing half his face.
“Would Garth agree with what you’re doing Mister Stiles?” Elsanne asked him.
“Glen…” Stiles started before catching himself. “Garth would have solved this, or had us all killed by now,” he finally said. “I’m not doing it for him,” he added. “If we live long enough we’ll know his heart for what is worth.”
Ah.
“I’m not doing it for you either,” Stiles continued seeing her expression. Elsanne blushed and looked away.
“I’m married mister Stiles,” she murmured unconvincingly. Elsanne hadn’t thought about Radin at all since she’d gotten to Eikenport.
“Yeah, I don’t think you ever were. Not in yer heart,” Stiles said and sighed. “That’s yer load to bear though, everyone must face what he’s done at one point or another. The more you postpone it, the more people get hurt.”
“Are all pirates so superstitious?” Elsanne probed changing the subject.
“We sail on Abrakas turf,” he replied. “No god is as vile as him, or as wrathful. It’s a risk, every time we step a foot on the slippery deck. Eh, you find yerself looking for any good luck charm you can get. Any type. Be it actions, the articles, or a piece of wood.”
“You’ve got Nine Lives they say,” Elsanne teased him with a smile. “You’ll outlive us all.”
Stiles grimaced, his face hidden under the shade of his hat, the moonlight making the skin on his unshaven chin turn a pale white.
“It doesn’t mean what you think,” he finally said a contemplating moment later. “Nothing romantic about it Anne, I’m afraid. Wish it was really, eh, I’ll give anythin’ to stand tall in yer eyes. Don’t settle for anything less aye. Anne should be enough, not the throne, or the realm, cut through the darn noise,” Stiles sighed once deeply and stood back from the parapet. “That’s the number of lives I traded for mine,” he added bitterly. “One for nine. Ayup, it’s done now. That’s not how it goes though.”
“Criminals,” Elsanne whispered as she’d heard the rumor, but he shook his head right and left not having it.
“Can you see the line separating one from the other? Is your judgement correct? A soul is a soul and we can’t measure a life’s true value ourselves. We shouldn’t,” Stiles said and tipped his hat to her with a sad smile. “That’s why the Gods are holding the scales.”
“What will happen tomorrow?” Elsanne asked him and the pirate paused at the top of the staircase.
“We will anger them Anne. They will strike at us probably.”
“Can we win this mister Stiles?”
“It depends,” he murmured thoughtfully.
“Is this going to be another scales and my soul’s worth, or what thingy?” Elsanne hissed a little frustrated and Stiles chuckled unexpectedly.
“Nah, it will come down to blades and bravery,” he admitted, then added. “And whilst we’re lackin’ aplenty in blades and bravery, if we’re being honest here, we have copious amounts of desperation Anne and I’ve seen crazier shite happen wit less.”
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read it at Royalroad : https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/46739/touch-o-luck-the-old-realms
& https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/47919/lure-o-war-the-old-realms
Scribblehub https://www.scribblehub.com/series/542002/touch-o-luck-the-old-realms/
& https://www.scribblehub.com/series/547709/the-old-realms/