“Regard your soldiers as your children, and they will follow you into the deepest valleys; look upon them as your own beloved sons, and they will stand by you even unto death.”
Sun Tzu, The Art of War
Sinbad sat between Ramil and Junaid as they were ferried across the lagoon to the inner isle. Opposite them, Farris, Haakim and Bahis sat quietly, watching the island approach. It was white as if carved from salt. A mountain arose in the middle, reaching up high. It was not the strangest island he had seen on his travels, but it was certainly distinctive, an island within a lagoon within an island. The cliffs that stood between it and the sea were imposing. Murshad had begged off attending, claiming he did not need to be there for the inevitable haggling and power plays before a deal was signed in blood if need be. He said he would visit the church and or possibly the pilgrimage site on the west side of the isle.
Once they landed, they walked between reflective pools of water lined with what appeared to be salt. The source for some of the wares Captain Kashif was peddling became equally obvious. The Silversea family must be relatively wealthy with salt, pearls and the other products they had noticed in the town market, especially in comparison to their neighbours this far out from the Compass continent. The Silverseas would hardly be a threat, but money had its own power, so it was worth being aware of and stepping politely if they wished to take everything they could.
“The number of their products is unexpected.” Commented Ramil casually as they advanced toward doors carved into the mountain.
“We stand to make a lot of money if they can be convinced to take us on as partners instead of Captain Kashif.” Sinbad snarled the other captain’s name in displeasure that someone had gotten there first or in pain over the losses he had already taken on this trip.
“An unguarded and untaxed entry into Ponente is worth far more than their products if sufficient goods travel through it. But the distance makes it less than ideal.” Bahis added.
“Might be wiser to keep such thoughts silent. We are being watched even if they cannot hear us yet.” Farris cautioned. He gestured ahead to the doors guarded by more of the town guards.
Quietly the group approached, falling silent under the stare of the slowly opening doors that made the mountain appear as if it was watching them come closer.
“Welcome to the Hall of the Silverseas.” One guard intoned. “May you walk in the light of the lodestar.”
They stepped through the doorway.
. . .
A day earlier
The Silversea family displayed many emotions about our flight and my minor incarceration. It helped a lot that it was very short and that I could dance my way out of it. Neither Father nor I filled in all the details as we were still coming to grips with exactly what had happened ourselves. However, we did give a detailed description of the individuals involved, and it was no surprise to find a few of them investigating the market the following day. Whether they knew it or not, they were in more trouble than they could conceive.
All our advisors from Lady Acacia, Namir, Arawn, and most stridently, our mother believed that a message had to be sent and a lesson learned in blood if that was what it took to ensure the Libeccians did not soon forget it. There might have been some ardent patriotism of Ponente being the better country, but ultimately they were slavers who had attempted to enslave the lord of the land. This would not stand. It did not matter that they were now passing themselves off as merchants merely interested in our deep sea pearls. They would receive a reception they would never forget in this life or the next if they did not bow to their new circumstances when they came to petition us tomorrow morning.
All of that led to tonight. While their captain slept in our sleepy little town, his ship was going to get a second visit from yours truly. Only this time, I would not be alone when I arrived or when we left. We were planning to take them for everything they had. If only to solidify our position tomorrow; however, I was not above admitting that there was a small measure of revenge for the terror I had been subjected to yesterday.
Waking up alone, chained while I watched as my magic burned me from the inside out was something I would never forget. It was only fair to provide him something similar that they would never forget either. It was all going to start here and now. Namir and Arawn were leading the raid but had all of our older, more combat-focused cousins lined up, ready to initiate our act of piracy. Though it was not called that, with the home advantage, this was a defensive act of the local lord against plundering pirates. It would also be a test and measure the strength of our men. Though if any were found wanting, our tutors had oversight and would act before their captain could realise and return. Fingers crossed, it would not come to that.
We followed Namir and Arawn’s lead, but they left it up to us to implement the plan. It would be a suitable proving ground and beneficial for our skills, stats and levels if they left it up to us. The Silversea court had got together to plan our liberation.
Months of manoeuvers under our tutor's eyes and sometimes pointed claws meant that we knew one another’s skills and abilities. The Silversea court was ready to act with both magic and might. One providing cover for the other, we would hit them in the middle of the night once the majority, if not all of the sailors, were asleep unsuspecting. We had watched the ship throughout the day, counting the men, counting the slaves, and learning the boat layout as much as we could from afar. I confess to feeling a little excited at the prospect.
. . .
Later that night . . .
“Last chance to ask for help,” Namir noted.
“We’re ready,” I said quietly, confident our plan would work.
“Not forgetting anything?” Arawn asked.
“No, we know what we are doing and how we will do it. We should be fine.” I repeated as much to convince myself as I was to persuade him.
Without another word, we disappeared silently down the stairs into the cove in groups of four, two boys to two girls, though plenty of our cousins were old enough to be men and women. The young ladies would provide magical backup while the two men would provide the martial might to overpower and defend against anything should the magic not take them out immediately. They would also be the ones to haul the sailors out of sight and off the boat afterwards.
After months we finally got around to building a holding centre in the expanded town though we had yet to fill it up with anyone. It looked like the unlucky Libeccian sailors would soon be its earliest guests. However, not all Libbecians were a bad bunch. Upon hearing about our run-in with another galley, Captain Kashif had quickly vacated port, not entirely fleeing north in his haste to swing around to the island's northern side. He promised to return after a short trip between Wester Levante and Little Wester. But he had also agreed to stay out of the way for the immediate future, which suited us just fine.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
Aleera and I led the way with Chase and Diane Silverstag, the hunters of the extended family. We would hopefully take out any of the more wakeful sailors, but as far as we could tell, there would not be any. For once in my life, the plan was executed perfectly. The sailors were caught napping. Lady Acacia had provided spells to ensure they stayed that way which the women of our extended clan could cast. The men then tied them up; it went off without a hitch. I smiled in satisfaction at a well-executed plan and that Namir and Arawn would have nothing to complain about.
Then came the actual work, the long haul of sailors to the top of the cliff. It was such a pain that we sent a runner back to the town to quietly ask for some guards to assist us with unloading the slaver's galley. If there was one failure of the night, it was the logistics. I had never attempted to transfer half a dozen unconscious bodies before, and it turned out that it was surprisingly tricky, even with the extra stats that everybody had. It did not help that Arawn and Namir found the lesson we were learning painfully funny.
“Oh, to be defeated by yet another unconscious sailor, the ignominy.” Called out Arawn from where they were watching me struggle. It was not so much the strength required to move the man. I had that now. It was the leverage and the height. No matter how much I attempted to manhandle my unconscious prizes. Parts of them would always end up dragging along the floor.
I gently lowered the man I had attempted to haul across the docks. Though my grumpiness toward my erstwhile grandfather dropped might have been a better description. The benefit of being so small was that he did not ‘drop’ very far. “Could we please have some help shifting the bodies?” I finally asked our observers, to my grandfather’s delight.
“Why, Kai, we would only be too delighted to help.” He grinned as he casually lifted a man with each hand dragging them up. “Where would you like me to take them?” he asked facetiously despite knowing full well where I wanted them to go. I was rethinking my policy on how we should have conducted our raid and the impounding of the galley. We wouldn’t have had anyone to carry if we had just killed everyone.
“Sailors to the lock-up.” I directed the additional people that had been brought to handle the logistics I had forgotten.
“The enslaved to the church.” I continued. Directing another group to them. It had been decided that the best way to keep everything under wraps for as long as possible was to keep everyone unconscious until they were freed. We did not want anyone doing anything stupid in their last moments of slavery.
The Bishop had accompanied us to be on hand should people require healing, but after witnessing the raid without bloodshed, he had retreated ahead of us to town. He would have much work to do soon. The slaves were now freemen though they didn’t know it yet. As soon as we had carried them onto our island by our laws, there were no enslaved people. They would be waking up to this fact in the church tomorrow morning. If they got processed by the Bishop quickly enough, they would meet us on the inner island. I doubted they would remember me from my time on the galley. I had been there for such a short time. But it was possible. We would all be a little tired tomorrow, but the aim was for all the enslaved people to be freed by the time their former owner stepped onto the isle.
The next stage in the plan was stripping the galley of its goods. It had few. It was not a wealthy catch regarding the number of trade goods, the wealth in its hull and the enslaved people who had powered it. But there were sure to be some treasures in the cabins of the elite that had targeted us. That, though, would have to wait for another day. Tonight we were stripping the ship of everything. We would take stock and restock once the day's outcome was decided. I had plans for that ship and would not let go of it anytime soon. What would happen with its owners was still up to debate, and how they reacted to this turn of events.
Like locusts, we descended onto the ship, stripping it bare before retreating for the remainder of the night. We needed to get a good night’s sleep for tomorrow’s performance.
. . .
The great hall . . .
Sinbad led the group alongside Ramil, Junaid, Farris, Haakim and Bahis, all paired up and walked behind them as they entered the hall. Secretly they were impressed that such a remote island had enticed a stone carver of such artistry to shape the Silversea’s reception hall. The outer façade had been impressive, and the inside did not disappoint. What was surprising was the number of people present and the number of house crests decorating the columns along the hall walls. For such a new noble family, it had a shockingly large number of branches, each with its own crest and banner.
As they advanced down between what was effectively the Silversea Court, they looked to the family leaders on their dais at the end of the hall. What was immediately striking was the diversity of their advisors, though the Lord and Lady's chairs were currently empty. To the left and right of where they would hold the petition stood an elf and a beastkin. It was not as if he had never seen such people, he had traded wide and far, but most of them remained in their lands, and it would have been far more likely for a Neriad to be present than those two.
Behind their group followed other petitioners. However, they seemed to be from the town, well known. He could feel the attention focus on them as they drew to the front of the hall. They had arrived 5 minutes before the hour, and the petition would begin as soon as the hour turned. He generally preferred negotiating in a more private setting with a more significant advantage, but that was the trouble with dealing with nobles in their homes. They were entrenched and had the defender's advantage of allies and numbers. That was not to say that he was not without his advantages. He did not represent a single ship but a cabal of some of northern Libeccio's most influential merchants and slavers.
Sinbad was elated that after a long and tiring journey, they would soon be able to return home. Just one last negotiation to take place. However, it would have been nice to have scuttled Captain Kashif. This was clearly where he had found the deep sea pearls; perhaps they might cross paths on the way back.
A chime sounded, and the great doors behind them began to close as Lord and Lady Silversea emerged without any pomp and circumstance. The pair seemed a little small to be the Lord and Lady.
Suddenly, Farris bolted for the closing doors. Shocked, the whole group turned to watch as he attempted to flee the hall. Confused and distracted by his sudden behaviour, they saw him reach the guards to the hall and leap over them. Only to be cut down midair by an old man moving with the speed of youth and demonstrating that they were not the only high levelled individuals in the hall.
Farris’s headless body continued through the air to land with a boneless thump on the steps to the hall. The thudding of the doors closing blocked the scandalous sight of their former comrade's demise.
Outraged at the abrupt events they did not understand, the group turned to face the Lord and Lady to demand an answer and were struck dumb.
It was the child they had caught.
He was the lord, merda!
. . .
Meanwhile, elsewhere . . .
Murshad had enjoyed finding this gem of a town so far from civilisation. It represented what the church of the lodestar should be about. An expanding of the horizon, pushing back the monsters of the deep or delving into it. This town had it all. Sure, it was a little backwards in places, but it was burgeoning with life and opportunity.
People looked and talked optimistically about the future, their expansion, their Lord and Lady. The entrance to the depths was no longer a source of outright fear. It helped that they effectively lived without taxation, and there had been no discharge of monsters from the depths yet. Just a slow, steady exploration of the pathways down and a few escapes that had been quickly cleaned up.
He was looking forward to reaching the most western point on the pilgrim’s path of circumnavigation. Not all church members could afford the time or money to complete the circumnavigation in one go. It would feel good to have such a distant point completed.
First, though, it was time to pay his respects to the local clergy. Yesterday had been a time for gathering information surreptitiously. Today was the time to say hello. He did not need to be there for the negotiations. He was only here because the Cabal had insisted a cleric accompany their venture and donated heavily to his senior at the local church. He had not leapt at the command, but he couldn’t deny there were personal benefits to the venture.
He strode confidently through the market square, already busy despite the day of the petition with the local Lord and Lady. The fact that a Bishop was here made following the etiquette much more critical.
Whether he had arrived by choice or exile, he was still a bishop.
He happily entered the Church of the Lodestar, each one home away from home, the familiar incense, the familiar faces . . .
Filling the pews were the slaves of the ship, and they all turned to face their former owner’s comrade, merda!
. . .