Chapter 126
Salamede POV
Winter wind blew around my green dress, making a wave through the golden triangles sewn into it around my neck. I paid weathers' kiss no mind. We Keltons were tough and cold like this barely merited a shiver. Looking out over the stone balcony of the harbor office, the docking area of red and grey flecked stone revealed a lot of my kind whose attire was probably too scant even for our constitution. Their only saving grace was the clear sunny sky trying its best to fight back winter. Such clear weather only made my sour mood sharper.
A forest of magic cranes moved back and forth on the wooden fingers jutting to the right from the stone base into the water. Despite the bits of white fluff still hanging around, the Keltons disembarking from the port and onto the proper streets seemed relieved at seeing the vast sprawl of stone buildings before them.
On the left were two lines of warehouses with triangular roofs. In contrast, behind them lay a vast swathe of stone mushroom caps topping two or three-story buildings. Cutting through the rock forest were two separate lanes of road going directly from the docks to the biggest specimen. There was no square bottom on the massive dome serving as the city's heart. Six towers hugged its sides while various black flecks moved about the open pavilion of red stone. Off towards the opposite edge of the massive stone block serving as our home's foundation were ever-present pillars of smoke wafting from the unseen forges.
A strong wind drew me back towards the harbor. Docked at each of the wooden fingers reaching into the bay was a mass of wood some might call a ship. Each bore patchwork sails and floated on the water, but their construction was sloppy and potted with planks forced in with glue and tarred over. As bad as they looked, the ores, cloth, and passengers they had been carrying were still above the waves, so perhaps I couldn’t judge their makers too harshly.
Around the newest arrivals were big Kelton men in full plate armor directing them about. Satisfied with the proceedings, I turned around and through the door into the harbormaster's office. Thick walls of grey rock kept winter's bite to a mere nibble. The floor was dark oak in the center of the square room, courtesy of a shipment bought from one of the starving merchants, while the flooring near the wall was grey stone.
Having a mix of stone and wood in the floor was a thing of unusual taste, but the old Kelton man in a thick blue robe with a white scarf at the stone desk to the right had asked for it and as admiral, this room was going to be his domain for the foreseeable future. The electric sensation of a spirit connection played across my right arm. I pushed down a bitter mood just in time to hear his voice in my head.
‘Ugh,’ Joessen huffed in my mind. He was looking at the page held by his left hand, idly using the other to scratch an ear sticking out of fur so grey it almost matched his white eyes. Stubby brown horns left a small shadow over his ears courtesy of the mana lamp above giving off a golden glow.
‘Any problems?’ I asked with a walk to the front of the desk.
‘My time has been stretched too thin,’ He mused while giving his pronounced chin a rub. ‘I can work the seas or get the goods from it sorted in port. Doing both has proved impossible. Not to mention having to help build another harbor in our vassal's hold.’
I clicked my lips together, shaking my head at his admission.
‘Did you not brag to no end of your skill in sailing? What was that story about getting blown off course and finding land again with only three other surviving sailors?’
His nearly white fur curled with his lips as the paper was set aside.
‘And a full cargo delivered only days late.’ He grumbled with a heave forward onto the desk. ‘But managing ship rations and other necessities isn’t the same as tracking warehouse stocks or finalizing the docking of dozens of ships. If you want a navy, then I need to focus on our ships.’
I raised an eyebrow at him.
‘Are the vessels not complete?’
His white eyes rolled so hard they didn’t need irises to show.
‘There are ten right now.’ He put up a finger to emphasize the next point. ‘And it’s not just numbers. We could have a thousand, but does that mean the patrol routes are set? The proper means of coordinating them? Do the captains know how to conduct an assault on the sea versus the land? Especially with the magic water boosters. These ships might be better than the driftwood held together with spit and string we’ve been taking on, but it’s not just the carpenters who make a navy.’
The smile fighting to get out finally won.
‘Were you not a proud owner of one of those hunks in the past?’ I asked with puckered lips.
A small huff was his first answer.
‘My standards have since been raised. And meeting them will require all the attention I can give.’ He finished with a lean back into his seat.
‘Making goods involves holding the supplies to forge them. I’ll see if our grand mistress of crafts is up to the challenge.’
The shake of Joeseen’s head sent my teeth grinding against each other.
‘That woman knows her way around needles, cloth, and wood, but she’s not the most organized sort. Personally, I'd be worried she would prioritize her shops over Menkie’s smithies. Someone without commitments elsewhere is needed, and soon. Right now, we’re dealing with hundreds of people. When it gets to be a few thousand, things will start going missing if we don’t have a good hand on what was in the warehouses in the first place.’
Him being right further pricked the bad mood I perpetually found myself in. Kantor was more or less in charge of security, and diplomacy where I could not be present. Which meant another round of interviews and endless discussion. The temptation to have my fake father go through with it called but I resisted. All authority ended with me and this was too important.
‘Another member of the great council, coming up.’ I announced with a slight sideways bow of my head.
Joeseen’s lips curled.
‘Watch that. You are the greatest Kelton alive. Others must exist beneath you, never beside or above.’
‘It wasn’t-’
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. The sideways head-bob was the standard courtesy this far north, yet, as the head of a major clan, such niceties were supposedly below my station. Little things like that would have been overlooked when it was just the two hundred or so that knew my true position. Now, however, I had to start living up to the legend I pretended to be. Releasing the breath, I allowed my eyelids to slowly open.
‘My apologies, Grand Admiral Joeseen. I will endeavor to be the belligerent ass we all aspire towards.’
A smile broke out on his face as he leaned back into the chair.
‘Good,’ He intoned despite my sour lips. ‘Now if you’ll excuse me, miss Passmede, I need to get ready to explain how to coordinate positions in strong winds for the thousandth time.’
I kept my head upright with the turnaround. Opening the door now directly ahead, the hallway lined with doors matched the admirals, including the floor. Near the far wall, on the right side, was the entrance to the staircase that made travel up and down the harbor office possible.
A single step was taken before two masses of steel moved behind me and one in front. They were trained by Kantor and any failings in their budding skills was supplemented with healing collars, magic weapons, and more metal than what most squads would get. Those things didn’t make it any less obvious that the man in front leading us to the staircase was a bit stiff in his movements. Making a mental note to have the guard's gear redone for a proper fit, I followed him around the corner onto the staircase.
Creaking wood announced every step of the steel mountains' descent. Another note to reinforce the wooden steps was added to an already overburdened list. The rectangular spiral offered a fleeting vision of the middle floor comprising various boys and men in ragged clothes being shown through doors. Even at the top of the staircase, the hum of chatter could be heard from below. Going down onto the lower stairs, the chorus crested into a full assault on the ears.
On the beginning section of stairs leading to the first floor, I took in the kiosks and long benches filled with future sailors around the large open room, only faintly noticing one of the young black-furred lads escorting a new member upward. The boy's charge was a large fellow in brown rags that matched his fur and curled horns. He was a hulking mass of a man despite sporting some lean bits suggesting a long hunger. Ingrained instinct told me to yield the right of way to the male a full head taller than me and I obeyed with a step to the side.
What I didn’t consider was them stopping at the same time to allow the ruler of the entire city to pass first. That it looked like I was keeping them for some sort of inspection did not go unnoticed. A major social event had just started with a single sideways step and the small crowd of Keltons below now inspecting the show made it clear I couldn’t leave without saying something. Any words spoken would be easily heard as the heady chatter died down to take in this conspicuous meeting. The only saving aspect was my face’s lack of reaction to the curses on my tongue.
“A new sailor, I presume.” I casually announced in a hoarse tone that hopefully hid how stupid I felt.
The boy gave a light cough and bow with a side turn of his head.
“Sort of, Lady Passmede.” He intoned in our kinds rough voice. “A worker of cloth whose done a fair bit with sails in the past.”
The man did a light sideways head bob to emphasize the boys words.
“Good,” I agreed, only just stopping my head from dipping sideways. At the same time, a genuine question presented itself. “So why is he still clad in wraps? Are we so low on new clothing?”
“Such items are presented on the awarding of a job, my lady.” The boy intoned.
“And it will be my crafts that will have to bring color to their blackened fingers because they had to wait a few hours.” I put in with a tone that hopefully wasn’t too sour.
The small gulp from the man towering over me said the complaint was too sharp, but the words couldn't be taken out of the ears so I let it be.
“Lad,” I commanded with a raise of my chin. “Once he’s settled, tell the people managing the refugees that they’re to be given some basic clothing after a bath then sorted into their labors. On my command.”
He did an eager head-bob, which I responded to with a turn back down the stairs as the two bystanders were finally freed from their leader’s stupidity. Our audience quickly resumed their daily lives, though anything that involved getting between me and the exit was still left waiting as we were given a clear path toward the thick oak double doors.
A soft breeze blew through my green dress with the guards pull on the right door. With only a few steps, the forest of cranes opened up in front of me only a stone toss away. I couldn't pay the hustle around them much attention as taking a left around the benches in front of the harbor office demanded concentration. My small leather shoes didn’t agree with these conditions but they were painted yellow and had an exquisite sewing of red flowers. The way they hugged my feet like a blanket made not wearing them almost a crime.
As naturally as breathing, I sucked in some ambient gold and blue flecks. Triangles and circles were woven together and their spell unleashed on the physical world. The sudden crack of ice around my feet being sent off to the sides made a few onlookers pull back in shock. They kept a good distance as each step produced a fresh rending of ice.
Our walk took us down one of the packed main roads leading towards the central dome. A wall of buildings held us in like a pen with the occasional break in the stone for a new path of travel. No matter how wide it was, nearly every bit of road was filled with families carrying whatever scant goods they had brought from the ships or one of the residents going towards one destination or another for work. A line of yellow paint on the large road divided those going forward while the other side allow traffic in the opposite direction. An early suggestion from my husband only recently put in with the new arrivals. And as was typical of his workings, now seemed almost impossible to live without.
Thoughts of that man presented an irksome notion. It occurred to me I might have scolded Eli for so frivolously wasting his magic in times past. Perhaps at our next meeting, I would compensate him for my hypocrisy. A smile came just in time for a big carriage pulled by four men to cut through the crowd from the left.
Seeing as how the workshops and forges needed various bits from each other, a system of carriages had been set up to help transport the goods to and from them as well as from the harbor warehouses. Part of that system was giving the big wooden beasts the right of way when passing through traffic. What I hadn’t considered was the image of Kelton’s pulling along the poles of the carriage like pack animals. Faint memories of human children flicking my snout and prodding my horns returned despite my best efforts to prevent their emergence.
Deciding that the first thing brought in by trade was some horses, I could only let my smile fall off as the crowd moved forward with the carriage’s exit. A heavy wind blew through my fellow travelers that even the thick cloth of my green dress struggled to keep off my skin.
Moving towards the giant dome off in the distance proved tiresome. It was near the end, when the open plaza of my main residence was a stone's throw away, that a thoughtless look downward made me pull up short.
‘Lady?!’ A guard behind me whispered in an electric buzz on my shoulder. A leathered hand gripped my side in expectation.
‘Nothing!’ I put in as calmly as I could manage with all three guards stopping in the middle of traffic to inspect me.
Heat suffused my cheeks as the hand released and I continued walking with the guard ahead resuming his duties. Me being startled at the black fur that had replaced the grey previously there was a fact that never needed to leave my skull. When we got to the open expanse of stone, the heavy traffic mostly turned towards a destination to the right or left.
A few still kept with us as we moved past a series of stone benches occupied with paper-laden secretaries or captains waiting to get their contracts for being inducted into our navy. As a matter of security, only a designated few were allowed at this spot. A few of several hundred, possibly even more than a thousand at this point, was still dozens of people waiting to get through the double doors of black iron leading into the dome whose top was impossible to see from the pavilion.
If any thought of trying to push through to the inner portion, the two mountains of steel standing by the doors kept such thoughts to mere speculation. At my approach, their horns sticking out of the iron helmets dipped to the side with metal-clad arms pulling open the iron slabs twice as tall as a man. Coming through, the first thing I noticed was the lack of wind clawing up my dress.
That may have made the open floor before me more appealing than perhaps was warranted. Still, the yellow sun on the stone ground was eye-catching as ever, as was its twin taking up most of the domed roof above. While the benches going up a good floor on the sides were bare things of grey stone, the bits of sun falling down on them from slits in the wall provided a different kind of beauty.
My destination to the immediate right was not as well embellished. A plain oak door with iron bands for extra protection stuck out along an equally dull grey stone wall. Beyond it was the meeting room for this city's most important leaders and my prison for what would probably be hours.
When we came close enough that the leading guard was raising his hand to open the door, a sudden ache set into my chest. Low, at the first moment, but quickly ramping up to an almost crushing grip on my rib cage. A pressure without any source gripped my chest like a dozen horses lying on top of me. Proportion said bones should be snapping yet they remained in place despite the sensations being sent to my brain. I allowed the leathered hand on my side to hold me up as weak knees threatened to fail. Like curtains of pitch, the edges of the grey wall ahead went black.
And for the first time in all my struggles with this monster, a faint hope that the darkness would take me cut through the agony.
It seemed like the void would grant me that mercy only for the pain to loosen its grip. Not as quickly as it had come but the lancing agony around my chest slowly fell into mere discomfort then…. Nothing. I was left standing with beads of sweat falling down my chin and no physical malady to explain the feeling of death’s visit.
To think women all over the world spent mountains of gold and risked death to go through this.
Getting properly back on my feet took another second. When I was finally presentable, a shaky step was taken forward, then a confident one. The guards had the same concerned look they gave me each time I nearly dropped but the leading man still dutifully opened the door.
Coming into the meeting room with a freshly scuffed mood left the bare, long space feeling particularly impoverished with its plain walls bathed in the golden light of a mana lamp above. Even the long table and wood chairs in the middle seemed to be of poor make despite the soft cushioning. Scouring the place as I moved towards the head of the table left me barren of any further complaints, which only further aggravated the need to justify the foul feeling permeating every waking second of my existence.
Plopping into the chair at the head of the table made the dress ride up my backside. A feral growl was working up my throat as icy air played along exposed legs. Closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, I let the foul mood seethe for a bit before telling it that our actions were making this worse than it needed to be. The black mass around my soul seemed only partially sated as I got to work fixing the dress.
By the time I finished, the first member of the council came in past the two guards waiting outside. Sheeka had a light brown dress matching her fur. That served as a contrast to the ivory horns jutting up out of her leather head cover. Their points were a bit sharper than her chin, but it was a closer thing than most would imagine.
As she sat directly on my left, her curt sideways head bob and tight lips made it clear she knew what state I was in. Her awareness of my irritation further aggravated it. Closing my eyes, I leaned my head back and focused on the icy air flowing across my tongue with each breath. In the black void, a wooden creak announced the arrival of another member. Faint whiffs of ash played across my snout with the scrape of a chair on my right, telling me who it was without even looking.
I was content to keep the world a dark void for a few minutes longer until a third and final swing of the door forced me to be mentally present for the meeting.
On the immediate right was a Kelton man with curled brown horns and grey fur matching my natural color. This time he wasn’t clad in a thick leather apron, though his thick brown coat, white shirt, and brown pants were of a particularly sturdy make. Menkie was rubbing a long tuft of fur on his chin as he took in Joeseen, who now took up the seat beside Sheeka.
“Will Kantor be joining us?” The old sailor coarsely asked the group. A few sideways glances were sent my way for direction, as they always seemed to these days.
A sense of resignation came over me as I prepared the use of my vocal cords with a cough. Maintaining spirit connections between so many people was almost impossible and we didn’t have the time to train and develop some elaborate seating arrangements with designated positions for the connections, leaving our ears to endure these proceedings.
“No,” I put in with a voice that was hopefully hoarse enough to hide the irritation within. “This is about supplies and building. Sheeka, I’ve heard we’re starting to get a good feel for our mana limits.”
She dipped her head sideways.
“Yes. Though, it's the smiths and builders who’ve had the biggest problem with it.”
Some faint suspicion wiggled in through my ears. Menkie had apparently discussed this with her beforehand, as he seamlessly took over her portion with a lean onto the stone table.
“We have plenty of room. And if our gates were closed to any more refugees, that would be enough….”
I raised my eyebrows at him, the unspoken ‘but’ being left plain. A tired sigh was all he gave me at first before he delivered the blow.
“Things can’t keep going as they are. If we wait until every house is full, it’ll be too late.”
“For what?” I asked.
“To expand,” He said with a look onto the table, on which he placed his hands melded together into a cube. “The cube on which this place rests is, with all respect to your ancestors, very inefficient with its mana. At the center of the stone is a wooden cube using a huge enchantment to keep the stone around it still or replace it.
We've found this effort isn’t equally spent in all places as the mana it uses to keep the stone in place beneath buildings is far greater at the edges. A few supports along the sides will help mitigate this. However…. Filling this place to the brim won’t take all the ambient mana, but my people feel it would take enough to severely impact our food and forges. That’s not even considering any future projects we may take up.”
The clacking of my fingers on stone permeated the air as I processed this information.
“Do you agree?” I finally asked with a look to the left.
Sheeka’s vigorous nod was more certain than I would have liked.
“Not a day working brick and I could tell you that,” Joeseen offered “When the harbors were being put in, anyone with mana sight would notice how large the flow of mana being sucked in by the cube was. That’s why the harbor has a separate interior of hardened wood supporting it.”
A little fact unknown to me, but I let it go to focus on the next words from Menkie.
“That’s besides the fact that the ground below the water is mostly sand. Getting down to solid rock and flattening it out would be a huge project alone. Not to mention dangerous. Maybe in times past throwing bodies at it could work but we don’t have the people for that.”
“Nor would we even if it were otherwise,” I put in with a puckered lip and pointed look at him, which he responded to with a sideways head bob. A slight cough from Sheeka made me turn to the left.
“All things considered, we think that having large shafts of stone, rather than a single huge slab, would be for the best. Ones designed to support the upper structures based on the natural strength of wood and stone alone without having to suck in mana.”
The faint suspicion bloomed into certainty. What they were recommending was beyond their architectural talent. Yet, they still proposed it. That fact cleared any doubt as to who they had in mind to make up the deficiency. Taking a deep breath, I straightened out my green dress with a small huff.
“Another lash across my husband's back?” I coldly demanded.
Sheeka raised her eyebrows to say ‘Really?’ while Menkie pulled back with a bit lip.
“Did we not agree to keep this a Kelton affair?” I asked the table. Joeseen leaned forward, his tongue licking his lips before he spoke in a broken voice.
“Waves never bend to the pride of captains. We do what we can but sometimes things are simply beyond our ability. Maybe something sturdy could be fashioned that would stand up to the elements for a year or two. Eventually, there will be a factor we didn’t consider and whatever we build will sink into the depths. Along with dozens of families.”
“Pff!” I scoffed with a lean back into my chair and a look around the table. “All three of you?”
Menkie looked to the side in embarrassment, while Joeseen and Sheeka met my gaze without falter or apology.
“If I could be so bold, my Lady,” Joeseen intoned with a lean back into his chair and gathering of his blue robe. “I don’t profess to know him as well as you do, but I do remember his insistence on safety. Far beyond any captain or construction overseer I’ve ever met. From that generous impression, I think it’s reasonable to say that he would prefer to make sure this massive undertaking be done in the soundest manner possible.”
I merely raised both eyebrows at his audacity, though Sheeka pulled my gaze towards her with a light huff.
“Even if we put a bloody whip to his back, surely there are ways we could make the proposition a worth while one.” The woman put in with a suggestive smile and a leftward lean of her head.
A small puckering of my lips at the subtle innuendo didn’t dissuade her from continuing.
“After all, he is a man. Men have been known to trade their labors for certain…. Services. And if the service was vigorous enough, he would only remember our request fondly.”
I was more amused than outraged, much to my own surprise. A lean back into my chair followed by a folding of arms left me chewing my lips for a second. Amusement was fighting with some frustrated voice demanding we do as Sheeka was suggesting.
“And what brothel would you suggest we take him to?” I asked with a carefully controlled smile. Sheeka shook her head with a pointed look up and down my dress, taking an extra moment to linger over the chest portion as she did so.
“His wife seems more than equipped enough for the task. And as the first of his marriage, would you not be capable of properly thanking him?”
Fire burned in my chest, not of scandal or anger, but competitive fury. Another woman was questioning my wifely skills and no mercy would be shown.
“Spirits know I’ve ridden him enough to almost achieve full recompense,” I put in sweetly. Sheeka grinned back, looking like a girl listening to some bit of juicy gossip. “But even I, as his beloved, cannot fully meet that goal no matter how much of my womanhood or mouth I give him. The fact is gifting him all due gratitude would be a death by draining.”
She pulled back with raised eyebrows and a pensive frown. Her lips moved to soundlessly form the word ‘mouth’ like it was a foreign thing on the tongue. In this context, perhaps it was. Feeling the initiative turn in my favor, I leaned forward with a pointed meeting of her white eyes and a vicious smile that wouldn’t be kept down.
“And if he should find himself with a buildup of sap and I’m not present, would you be able to meet the challenge? This skittishness I’m seeing isn’t filling me with confidence that you’re fully aware of what a proper thanking would entail.”
Sheeka gave me a sour puckering of lips, like she was holding in what she really wanted to say. Even so, she gamely opened her mouth for a return blow.
“Such matters would require his personal judgment. Perhaps I should accompany you on the visit to get a rigorous examination.”
As I prepared to ask how she intended to service the cap of Eli's stem, a moment of reflection came. That probably wasn't a question that should be asked at an official meeting. The sheer vulgarity of the impulse made me consider how the conversation preceding it wasn't much better. Taking a deep breath, I could feel the infection of horrid days and lonely nights working through my tongue to deliver a laborer’s profanity. At least mother wasn’t here to wash my mouth out.
“I will take it up with him,” I offered with a more measured tone. That made Sheeka pull back into her chair with a sideways nod.
The clink of metal to the left drew my gaze. For all the intimidation of large steel plates and sharp swords, the red ears and awkward stare forward from the hulking man was almost cute. The other men were likewise made uncomfortable. Menkie didn’t even attempt to meet my gaze, instead keeping his face in his hands with burning ears on the side. Joeseen only regarded our conversation with a resigned smile.
Still, they had won with Sheeka’s gamble.
Some deep part of my soul decided to ask Eli for this labor without considering if the rest of me wanted to or not. I quickly perused my memories of all the times we played, looking for the moves that had made him quiver the most and made note of the greatest prospects. A wife's pride was now in contention and it demanded vindication. I let a second pass before presenting the next problem.
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“Even if he should succeed,” I announced to the assembled group. Menkie was staring down at the table now while Joeseen patiently waited beside Sheeka. “There remains the question of how much of the snail's territory we want to take. They’re our only real defense from a land assault. To say nothing of potentially ruining the only natural wonder of the north.”
Menkie finally gathered up the courage to re-enter the conversation with a look towards me that didn’t meet my gaze.
“We’ve considered that. Making the new housing four or five stories tall should help alleviate the need to push too far into their domain. There are a few spots where they don’t seem to stay, though filling those places in with housing will mean the expansions won’t be simple blocks. This is, of course, another reason the grand mage’s vision will be needed.”
Joeseen leaned forward with a pensive frown.
“Another issue is distribution,” The old Kelton said with a look towards the smith. “I can’t say I have any complaints with my current accommodations, but Eli’s mastery of building is unmatched. Any houses designed by him will no doubt be in greater demand than the ones here. How will we determine payment for such spaces versus living here?”
“Hmm,” Sheeka mused with pursed lips. “Taking that idea a few years out, our center of government might end up being in the slum.”
“Slum?” I asked her with furrowed eyebrows.
She bobbed her head back and forth with bit lips before casually shrugging.
“Every place has those unsavory bits. Certain corners where children shouldn’t play and addicts can ply their drug of choice in peace.”
A stiffened spine and raised chin were the physical answers before the oral one.
“Not every place has magical crafts and their creators working together. We can’t all be wrapped in gold and jewels, but we can keep things better than merely acceptable. And if I’m running this city, the only places children can’t go will be the forges and harbor.” I declared with a firm tone.
Dubious looks greeted the proclamation. No matter. They were compliant and if it took a few years for them to let old views die, I would not begrudge them that time.
“For the here and now,” I continued, “Eli typically has items required before he plies vision to paper. Get samples of the rock floor beneath the sand and some spots selected for future expansions. In addition-”
The sudden opening of the door drew everyone’s gaze. A small, brown-furred lad in cream pants and a blue shirt, marking him a messenger of Joeseen’s domain, came through. The next few words vacated my tongue. He wouldn’t have been let through if the guards didn’t allow it. People had nearly died because they thought a few extra corpses weren’t worthy of my attention before I had to tell them otherwise. That left me very interested in the way he ran up to the blue-robed man and conducted an unheard spirit connection with a heaving chest.
Joeseens furrowing his eyebrows made me gulp. Whatever was being said, it was making the admiral breathe like he was on a run. This time, I made sure to keep the everpresent foul mood out of the rising irritation in my gut. When the conversation with the boy ended, his rise out of his seat signaled the end of ours.
“It seems the humans have finished covertly shadowing our ships. Crasden has sent an envoy. He is requesting an immediate meeting and has even agreed to keep his guards back at his boat.” The admiral announced with a pointed look towards me.
“Lad,” I said to the messenger boy. “Tell the men to get the council chairs and my couch in place.”
The lad was so eager to obey that he didn’t even give me a sideways head-bob before running out of the room. Joeseen regarded the small retreating figure with a raised eyebrow but it was Sheeka who spoke up.
“Sala-…. Passmede. Is such a meeting wise? What with your circumstance and all.”
I shook my head as I leaned back into the chair.
“The pain came just before the meeting. So far, it only shows up once a day at most.”
“Ah,” Sheeka said with an embarrassed look down. “My apologies for earlier. A pregnant woman shouldn’t be harassed.”
Joeseen raised an eyebrow at the woman.
“The chief's seed hasn’t taken root in her nor is her belly swollen.”
Sheeka turned to the man with puckered lips.
“A woman is going to push another living thing out of her body. What word would you use?”
Their bickering melded into background noise while Menkie and I rested in our corner of the table. Some notion of telling them Eli’s seed had, in one sense, taken root in me pulled my world to simpler days. Reminiscing on the times of galavanting around the Diamond Academy also made it clear the birthing pains weren’t the only thing fouling my spirit.
In my first marriage to the drunkard….
What was his name?
The surprise that I couldn’t remember what I called my former husband of ten years was almost matched by how indifferent I was to that fact. All memory presented was how I had to throw him out for hitting my mother. That and our wedding night.
Giving the layabout my virginity was probably going to be my biggest regret in life, unless I really messed something up in the future. How I wasted my twenties was going to be the second. We never had children, thank the spirits, but it was only recently that the feelings of the lost decade had been made clear. Sex had become a chore performed to keep him happy, never because I wanted it. I couldn’t quite place how, but I think that notion of labor in bed made me think I could live without Eli for months on end.
A woman of refinement and quiet dignity is what I always strived for growing up. Not like those crude people who only approached the serene beauty of our gender by virtue of birth. Perhaps I stuck with my waste of a husband because our lack of activity made me think I was living up to that ideal. Being a prim and proper lady is easy when the male half of the marriage makes your legs cross on their own.
Union in body was something I had merely tolerated for almost my entire adult life. Now it seems obvious that those years of tolerance had made me blind to how painful a still bed would be when its creaks were an accompanying symphony instead of an interruption in preparing the grocery list as the route motions were gone through. For all the lives hanging in the balance and work towards the betterment of my entire species going on, a temptation to visit for more plant crafts or whatever other crap would get me back in his bedroom was growing with every cold morning and breakfast without some loving on the side or squeezes on his favorite bits of my body.
The memory of our last meeting came like a tempting dream. My heart pounding as he lifted the dress-
*Creak*
Visions of a pleasant past were replaced with a steel-plated guard coming through the door.
“We are ready, great council.” He announced to the room.
I was grateful that the black fur was hiding the color of my cheeks, and even more glad for the lack of heat in my ears. Having spent almost half the meeting thinking about rutting and pondering the feeling of an exploding chest, the saving grace was that only most of it was said out loud. The other members still deigned me fit for purpose, however. They got up with my rise and waited for me to lead the procession out, which I did with the man of steel on my left.
Going through the door revealed the open forum. It was left unchanged save the white couch in the center of the sun on the floor between the bleachers. It was sporting two chairs of dark oak for the esteemed councilors on each side with the one on the far right already being occupied by Kantor.
Clad in the same steel as my guards save a steel helm, the older Kelton's black fur flowed over some chain mail around his neck. His curled brown horns dipped with the side-long nod of these lands. As I settled into my position among the fluffy white pillows, Menkie took up beside Kantor. Sheeka and Joeseen were the last to sit, with the woman taking up the chair closest to me. A simple nod to the guard by the main doors made him open the iron slabs leading to the outside.
Through it came a man sporting a mop of red hair with a blue scarf over his mouth. His green eyes immediately settled on me, as was expected. In return, my gaze was fixed on the robe adorning his frame.
Such clothing was typically seen as being for those of modest spirit or means, though this specimen broke that trend. The straight, downward gold lines going around the blue fabric shined too brightly to be the product of paint. If he made any judgments of our abode and attire, it was left unsaid on his part with the slight forward bow of his head.
His walk towards us was stopped by Kantor's huff.
“It is a poor envoy who challenges the chief on his first visit.” He intoned with a rough voice that bounced off stone walls.
Right. I was supposed to be offended. A bit of sweat ran down the back of my neck but I quickly waved my hand at Kantor with a cautioning finger.
“Father, humans don’t have horns. For them that is a simple greeting and such things are hard to keep on a leash.”
The human’s green eyes widened a bit, though his demeanor didn’t suggest panic nor was his hand unsteady as he pulled down the scarf to reveal a sharp chin and smooth cheekbones on a thin face.
“I’m afraid your sire correctly judges my ability, though not my intent. I am an unqualified diplomat and can only offer my apologies for any uncouth behavior from me and my men. Sadly, time is not so generous as to allow my house to find a better one.”
I raised an eyebrow but said nothing to stop him from continuing. Something he picked up on after a second.
“I am Emerett, from house Kraton. Named so after our founder who served under the great ultimate mage Rodring and the rulers of Crasden. More pertinent to this discussion, the load bearers for protecting that great capital. The head of our efforts is Lady Ashe and she sees an opportunity here where others might see problems.
We are aware of how the Mist pirates were pushed from your people's lands. As well as your travels around the colder northern regions. Reports from spies and intercepted letters, however, suggest our mutual foe believes we were the main force behind that loss, with your people acting as a supplementary force. Our observations of their deployments and patrol routes would also suggest a similarly dismissive attitude towards the strength of your sea power.”
In the corner of my eye, I saw Kantor lean a bit forward, shoulders so tense even the steel plates above them couldn't hide it. A quick look to the other side showed a more restrained Joeseen, though the squeeze he was giving the arms of his chair seemed beyond casual. For my part, I was more curious than anything else.
“And do you share that assessment?” I asked in a hoarse voice that slightly undid the casual tone I was going for.
A small smile spread across his face.
“Before coming here, I wouldn’t have believed they could be turned aside so totally by any of the northern clans. Now? Well…. Stone can manifest belief, it seems. Poor a diplomat as I may be, the good sense to not ask for the sum total of your current capabilities is still within me. So I can only give you this information and leave you to act on it as you can.”
He stood a bit straighter at the last word, taking a deep breath before delivering his main message.
“Ten days from now, a battle on the seas is scheduled to take place near the southern half of our seas and, most importantly, far away from Passtoon’s Watch.”
“Scheduled?” Sheeka asked with puckered lips.
Emerett was drawn up short, raising an eyebrow at the interruption. Despite looking how I felt about the question, he politely coughed before explaining.
“Scheduled is the word but not the whole truth of it. Travel on the ocean is impossible save for the specialized behemoths laced with pools of poison and fire enchantments, as I’m sure you’re all aware. There is only so far a ship can travel from shore and those capable of guarding fleets across the seas for days-long voyages move too slowly for their needs.
That leaves few routes for them to travel, all of which can be easily calculated. There may be a few twists of wind or even the shakes of a storm to throw things off, but in the end it’s easy to pinpoint when and where our fleets will meet up. Which is what makes the opportunity you present all the greater.”
He took another breath before getting back to what I assumed was his main track of thought.
“In order to aid their reinforcements, the pirates are going to be sending away most of their remaining ships around their stolen base. Besides one or two for patrols almost certainly not located around your approach, all of their combat-worthy vessels will be away from their last foothold in the north.”
I sat upright with a buzz along my spine that made the hair stand straight with its upward travel.
“To that end,” Emerett continued, “We have prepared charts of their regular patrols and sketches of our house's former sea-bound keep. What actions you take from this information will be up to you.”
Kantor coughed, drawing all eyes to him.
“The trip here was risky. Bringing such information and a mage would have made it even more so.” He stated with the obvious question left unasked.
Emerett’s smile was a bit more genuine at that.
“The pages were contained in a specialized box with fire enchantments that would have burned the contents to ash if opened improperly. As for myself, I am merely a crafter and had the convenience of being at hand.”
Such a brutal self-assessment raised my respect for him a level. I nodded in the human way, meeting the man’s gaze as he turned to me.
“A surprise attack, then?” I asked.
He puckered his lips with a good-natured smile.
“Is it truly a surprise if the knife comes from someone you struck first?"
I nodded again in agreement. Joeseen, however had a skeptical look as he coughed for attention.
“And what will be the price for those papers?” He demanded with a stuck-out chin.
That brought a full smile to the redhead's face, like the question he had been waiting for just ran up to him.
“This information comes without price or expectation, all in the spirit of cooperation and bringing low those who have made these months so wretched. Lady Ashe repeatedly emphasized how you are under no obligation to act on this gift, only that I was to remind you that the pirates will not take their kicking from your lands without retaliation. Wounded pride that they will only act upon if their hold on Passtoon’s Watch is firm enough to allow them the free time.”
Kantor strummed the fingers of his metal gauntlet on the arm of his chair. Silent anger still burned beneath the steel shell, but none of it was showing on his face. The clanking on wood finally stopped before he spoke.
“And does your house still claim that lost land?”
For the first time, the human dropped his placating demeanor. A deep V formed with Emerett’s eyebrows and green eyes tightened. It passed by so suddenly I almost questioned if I had seen it at all. When a plain smile returned, it was so carefully constructed that I could only conclude his appointment wasn’t solely one of immediate convenience.
“The pirates were not gentle in their acquisition, but I assure you nature's protection of the area is as strong as ever. More than that, they may seem few in number on land, but the crabs would more than make up for any deficit. Counting the plunder before you’ve even drawn a sword would not be wise.”
Not a denial, but not an affirmation. How typical. Still, the prospect he presented raised a question of my own.
“The Mist pirates are people of fire and water elements, correct?”
Emerett almost dipped his head in the human fashion, only just stopping in time to bite his lip and lift his neck back up.
“Indeed. Their ultimate founder was a man of some mystery but his unique nature is well known.”
“And are their preferred pets more resilient against flame for it?”
A moment of reflection passed before he shook his head.
“I have studied their ways extensively, as everyone has in recent months and been unfortunate enough to obtain personal experience with their tactics. I have seen the hermit giant crabs boil as their smaller cousins do in the pots. Though how they would pair with beer and butter is still in question.”
Despite myself, a smile fought onto my face, as it did for the rest of the council.
“This is a unique gift.” I continued “Though it is free, I know that delivering it was not. The bitter bite of winter and sea are things I have endured as I’m sure you have these past few days. A home could be made available to you until you’re ready to set off tomorrow. Meal included.”
This time he kept his head still when speaking.
“Being a burden is a poor first impression in any relationship. If the cold hadn’t been so intimate with my every crevice and pore these past few days, maybe decorum could be maintained. As it is, I doubt the men would see me return alive if I refused such an offer.”
Kantor gave a pointed look to the steel-plated guard behind the man. Stomps of steel on stone made the redhead look back for a brief moment before turning towards us again.
“If I may be so bold as to offer advice. The Mist pirate's lack of earth element means any damage to the piers will be irreparable save for the import of massive wooden timbers. Taking out even one or two would severely hamper their operations on the island, with all the implications for their sea-faring endeavors.”
I gave him the human nod back, which he returned before following the mountain of steel out into winter's embrace.
“Any thoughts?” I asked the room in a rough voice.
Joeseen huffed with a lean forward to look past me at Kantor.
“He didn’t seem terribly confident much will come from this venture.”
Kantor did a sideways head bob while biting his lip.
“They probably think the refugee ships in the harbor are our main fleet. If I was in their place, I’d put down us kicking the pirates out to catching the scum on land and by surprise. No doubt a long, bloody battle even with those. Maybe we should give the island a good drubbing to show our strength.”
“Agreed,” I put in, “Another opportunity like this won’t come by. However, we should minimize casualties and the idea of us slugging it out with house-size crabs doesn’t complement that.”
Menkie lightly coughed, sounding more like he genuinely needed to get some spit out of his windpipes rather than get attention, though he did use the opportunity for such.
“I assume you want some kind of firecraft for them?”
“Indeed,” I said, “The airship will make a pass over the island for more detailed information, but Emerett made it seem like it will be easy once the crabs are dealt with.”
“Boiling them does seem like a straightforward thing.” Menkie offered.
“Catapults.” Joeseen put in from the left. “We’ll also need some stone spheres to deal with the ones that make it on land.”
“All very good.” I put in with a rise from the couch. “My experience with an assault from ship to land is nonexistent. So I will leave the planning and designs for the crafts to your expertise.”
As I moved towards the door with my two guards coming up behind me, Sheeka came to my left.
“Apologies, Passmede. I was quite rude earlier.”
I gave her a small smile before motioning her to follow me.
“The problem with having a great husband is you can no longer be an idiot, lest it reflect on your other half. A wife should at least keep him happy in that way. Something I clearly need to learn.” I assured her as we approached the double iron doors.
Those metal slabs were pushed open by the two men, letting in a chill whose only saving grace was the lack of wind behind it. The cold was immediately accompanied by an electric sensation across my arm.
‘Any decent husband would understand the struggles of pregnancy,’ She offered as we crossed into the outdoors. ‘I’ve inquired with the former midwives and your pains…. Are not typical to their expertise.’
Our trek took us past those waiting outside and through the stone pavilion while I pondered my situation. The faint waft of body odor was present, though not nearly as strong as the mass of people moving in front of us would suggest. As we tacked into the main body of traffic with a right turn, I finally let loose a sigh.
‘I don’t think pregnancy has broken any woman like this has me.’ I confided with a slight slump of my shoulders as a cart swerved a bit out of our way.
‘It’s that bad?’ Sheeka asked with a raised eyebrow.
‘The pain has gotten to the point where I just hope I pass out. If that isn’t defeat, what is?’
She gave me a pitying look but said nothing else. This was my burden to shoulder and no one else here had any experience or advice to give. Our company was soon split with my turn into one of the buildings to fashion a small mountain of healing collars. Another burden no one but me could see to. That fact, coupled with the lack of Gula and Eli in my daily life, left a feeling of loneliness despite the constant guards and the entire city literally centered around me.
Starlight guided my return under the dome. The heavens barely lit the stone floor and yellow sun as I made my way to the room in the back. It suddenly occurred to me, as I was pushing open the door into my abode, that telling the airship of the needed spy run would have been a good idea before leaving to make the collars. Placing any and all blame on the pain, I stepped into the black void. Above was a triple-paned window trying to let in the feeble starlight outside. My press on a mana crystal to the immediate left lit up the room and put to shame the weak efforts of the heavens.
Golden light poured over the mural on the left, which always drew my gaze at every entry. Bold pinks and red across grey stobe depicted swords floating over rough rocks swarming with snails. Each blade's tip was pointing downwards on the uncomprehending beasts below. The only other pieces of furniture were the stone desk directly ahead, its wooden chair embroidered in red cushioning, and the carpet of white fur rug below.
We were far enough north that every floor was almost ice. In times past I would have stiffened my spine through the pain, but the me of here and now had gotten too used to the luxuries conjured by an unfathomably talented husband. A fact I accepted without argument.
The door behind the desk was the entrance to the bedroom proper, but only the day's physical labor had been seen too. That and the fact that the airship wouldn't be much use scouting this late meant only one thing. Letting loose the same sigh I gave before going into the fish gutters shop for a grueling day, my feet accepted what I would not and plopped me into the seat. Sure enough, a stack of papers was waiting for me, and not just the previous day's work as the small flicker of hope in my chest had yearned for.
I took the first page and looked over the handwriting that I placed as Menkie’s. A request for more iron ore and competing for the hauler's time. As did the next three papers. The fourth page was asking for the wood to make some kind of mana-soaking barge. A giant floating craft that would pull the blue specks from the sea and the way Joeseen waxed poetry in its description made me want to write down an approval.
The copies of our current stocks may not be so enthused, however. A quick rummaging of the weekly figures stored in the drawer revealed they were not, yet I knew of where to find the wood. I pulled out the copy of our stores from bringing in the harried merchant ships waiting to die outside of closed ports. On the page, I found the stores of wood from said merchants.
As the page was brought back down to its proper place, a thought struck me like a lightning bolt. We were separating our stores based on intake from our magic craft farms and what was brought in from the ports. But the crafting quarter was also keeping track of its output independently to get a better understanding of their demand for mana.
So why were we bothering to make that distinction when it came to resources for work projects? If they were a merchant's property, sure. That didn’t apply, however, as all the goods recorded in the harbor warehouses were owned by us through trade. The only reason I could conjure was that it was a decision made in haste whose needless complexity only now became apparent.
Writing down the issue on a fresh page, I resolved to take it up with Sheeka and Joeseen in the morning. Whoever I was going to foist the job of coordinating resource distribution on shouldn’t be left with the impression that the people ruling this place were idiots. I moved on to the next few pages with a sense of satisfaction. Sadly, no jolt of revelation came with the rest of the orders, requests, and propositions.
The mind-crushing drudgery finally ended at an unknown hour. A tired mind and stumbling feet took me to the mana lamp to press it off then through the back door into the proper bedroom, all while moving off memory. Another casualty of my exhaustion was the nightly check-in with the airship, which I resolved to do when a fresh start to the day accompanied the quick conversation. Morning came too soon, though I dutifully got my shower and put on a blue dress with golden triangles running up and down its cloth.
As the morning meal of fried fish and chicken soup was washed down with water, Kantor came in wearing his ever-present armor and sword. His black fur had specks of white telling of falling snow outside yet it did nothing to dampen the excitement in his demeanor. The way he unfurled a large scroll across my desk was likewise enthused.
‘We’ve worked out a design for boiling the crabs.’ He announced in a spirit connection that buzzed across my left shoulder.
What the drawing presented was a long rectangle of wood. The core and one of the ends were empty, leaving room for the second part. A hollow tube of stone would be inserted with both ends open. At the inner end of the craft was a fire enchantment that would spew flame through the stone tube, which I comprehended to be a guard for the wooden shell. That accompanied another realization when looking over the instructions for the enchantment.
‘It’s going to be sucking in the ambient mana? What if they use up all the mana we need for our mages? Are you so confident in our ability to match the pirate's swordsmanship?’ I asked with a raised eyebrow.
‘The humans will not be sporting as much armor as we are whereas beasts don’t care for such things, especially when they’re the size of a house. We’ll have mana crystals for our magic and I doubt the pirates will have such preparations. Sucking up all the mana with these crafts to boil the surrounding water puts on the best footing.’
‘All right,’ I agreed with a feeling of reluctance. ‘I’ll have the airship do a scouting run and then you can finalize the plans with Joeseen.’
‘But not you?’ He asked with a raised black eyebrow below curled brown horns.
‘I’m not going, obviously. No experience to offer in the arts of sailing or siege. You know to minimize casualties, as I’ve made clear many times before. There is nothing left for me to contribute besides more healing crafts.’
Kantor gave me a sideways head bob.
‘I thought you’d like to know that our human guests have since departed. No fuss and an insistence that you be told how grateful they are for the hospitality.’
I puckered my lips at the news.
‘Good. However, I doubt future meetings will be so forward. Spies visiting under such pretexts will no doubt pick up when things in the north stabilize. Perhaps we should make a housing section just for human visitors, making them easier to track.’
Kantor bounced his head back and forth for a bit before shaking it.
‘That might work for a few weeks or months, but this is a years long project. Eventually, they’ll figure out that sending humans isn’t as effective as bribing some Kelton from the clans with a weakness for gold to visit. Restricting visitors from the forge and crafting areas and leaving the current housing district as a playpen for all the foreigners is probably our best course.’
I nodded before the next task of the day presented itself.
‘Did the guards hear anything while I was out?’
Kantor shook his head with a tired sigh.
‘It’s not easy, training these men. Having to keep one sitting around for hours in case that box makes a noise may seem like a small expense to you but it's not cheap on my end, I assure you.’
A smile forced itself on my face despite the early hour.
‘A burden I’m sure many are eager to shoulder.’
His lips puckered with a child’s petulance, something that contrasted with the imposing steel body and sword at his hip.
‘But not on my shoulders. A day's pay for a nap and a quiet meal. Such dreams, I suppose, fate will never deign to give me.’
I furrowed my eyebrows at him with a puckering of my lips to match his.
‘They aren’t laying in my bed while waiting for a report from the ship, are they?’
‘None would be so foolish as to take the cot of the chief's wife. They are provided a separate chair which is brought and taken with them.’ He assured me a bit too seriously.
I was tempted to tease him about it further if not for duty pulling me elsewhere. My fake father took my silence for dismissal and gave me a head bob before turning out the door. Left alone, I abandoned the dishes and went back into my room to deliver the message that should have been sent last night.
The mana lamp on the left was turned on, revealing a small bed with white sheets directly ahead. On the left was a wardrobe and mirror while the right was taken up by a door that led into the bathroom. I walked straight ahead, ignoring the call of those soft pillows and blankets as best I could with a kneel onto the floor beside their wooden frame.
A groping hand went back and forth over cold stone until the feeling of wood suddenly rubbed on my fingers. Seizing it, I brought the box up with my rise off the floor while making sure not to scrape the downward-facing copper pole. The instructions on how to use it were in a faded corner of memory, but the needed bits presented themselves after a few seconds. Bringing the metal disk up to my mouth, I pressed the button on the back.
“Hello, Salamede talking.”
A few seconds passed before the box crackled with an equally rough Kelton voice.
“The Intrepid, responding. Finished, I believe is the word. You’re coming in a bit faint.”
It took me a moment to place the voice as coming out of the disk I was speaking through. Right. The copper pole was supposed to be upward. Fixing the mistake I would keep secret till my dying day took only a turn around of the box. Which I finished with a cough before pressing the button on the back again.
“I was a bit far away. The important thing is we need a quick overview of the pirates around Pastoon’s watch. I believe you know the way to the island. Finished.”
“Yeah. Another flyover for the fort? Finished.”
“No,” I said with a needless shake of my head. “Well, sure. But what we need most is a detailed mapping of their patrols. At least four days worth.”
Seconds of silence passed before the box spoke again.
“A raid, my Lady?”
“One prompted from Crasden under official visits. They’ve given us charts of the pirate's patrols. I have no reason to think they’re lying, but you don't need to be lying to be wrong. A check with our eyes in the sky is needed. Nine days from now, we’ll be sending a large force out if the charts hold true. Which you will accompany. Finished.”
“Understood, my lady. Finished.”
Nodding to the pilot who couldn’t see the gesture, I placed the box back beneath the bed. With that bit finished, I went back to work. The rest of the day passed without incident. Typical state of affairs, in things both large and small. Night flew by in bliss. The next day and night held to the same pattern with the pains giving me a good squeeze almost immediately after breakfast.
In the mid-morning of the third day, I was pouring over a list of candidates in a plain white dress at my desk. Working figures and numbers weren’t terribly needed skills in the frozen wastes, so the qualifications of contenders on hand mostly amounted to other people vouching for their general intelligence or a member of the council saying they seemed like a learned sort. One was particularly interesting, their claim being their own book on-
“Ssmede”
The distorted whisper of what I assumed to be my name drew me from the page, which I placed to the side. Getting up from the desk, I moved towards the door leading out onto the main forum when the faint, almost garbled voice sounded out again.
“Rider…..In.”
With the foreknowledge to carefully listen, the direction of the voice pointed towards the bedroom. The fact of where it was coming from now apparent, I half-ran across the room back through the opposite door. A quick fall to my knees beside the bed and the radio was back in hand.
“Greetings, Intrepid, even if the greeting is a day early. I do hope the people in Crasden are as capable on the sea as they’ve pretended. Finished.”
A second of dead silence passed.
“This is the Cloud Strider. Ready to deploy the troops as ordered. Finished.”
I stared at the wall of grey stone ahead. The dead silence of the room filled the empty void where thought and action were supposed to be happening in my brain. After taking a quick breath, I delivered the first of many questions.
“Who….Who is this?”
“The…. Cloud Strider, Lady Salamede. My apologies, I forgot you probably weren’t informed of the name of our third ship.”
Third?…. I blinked as I remembered the workings of a third ship being done back at the base. Which did nothing to explain things.
“Right. Um….” My left hand rested on the bed as I leaned into it
I took a moment to organize the words trying to vomit out all at once while all the hair on the back of my neck started standing straight up.
“What, by the spirits, are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be watching the base.”
An eternity of nothing stretched on for two entire seconds before the box crackled.
“We are bringing the requested troops.” He said in a voice that was just beginning to suspect his situation.
“Who gave that order?” I hissed into the wood and metal.
“Pilot Durka, my lady. She said in her correspondence with you and the Intrepid that more troops were needed to deal with the influx of refugees.”
Malicious. This was not an accident or a fruit of stupidity. Someone was lying and they were familiar enough with our inner workings to craft this deception.
“We’ve had no such discussion,” I growled into the box. “Get back to the base. NOW! It’s…. Probably the Orcs. The ones were for taking Eli’s seed and making magic cap-”
“But why? The other ship has been having trouble-”
“IT DOESN’T MATTER!” I screamed as loud as my lungs would allow, which felt totally insufficient in conveying the panic rising up my throat. “Whoever or whatever is behind this farce did it because they wanted to do something that you were a threat towards. And that threat needs to get its ass back there NOW!”
A dull silence made me want to reach through the radio wave things and strangle the unseen man on the other side of this conversation.
“Well?!” I demanded through gritted teeth.
“Sorry, my lady. I was busy turning the- Yes, its some kind of deception. We’re heading back.” I felt a twinge of sympathy at his attempt to converse with two people at once, but heated breathing and raw fury quickly blotted it out.
“The Intrepid will be returning soon. We’ll follow.” I spoke before placing the radio back below the bed with a rather hard thud.
“GUARDS!!” I yelled in the same feral tone I had used on the radio. By the time I was pushing on the door out of the bedroom, the hard slam of wood on stone beyond matched the frantic clanging of steel. As I came through, I saw two of the metal men grasping drawn swords with a frenzied and deadly air.
Troops. The Intrepid would need troops and couldn’t land in the city now that we had outsiders.
“Get a ship ready with two dozen fighters,” I ordered with a quick sprint around the first man. “Keep one man here who knows how to work the radio. They are to instruct the Intrepid to head north and keep an eye out for one of our ships traveling along the coast, which they’ll pick me and the men up.”
“What’s going on?” One of the men asked, raising a brown eyebrow of fur.
“Our newest airship from the base just came down to work a fool's task. Someone at the base didn’t want them around. Get a ship in the water so we can at least get some distance in.”I half yelled as I went out the door.
Blood pumped and my violent demon half was fully charged. The fact that whatever was happening so far north would probably already be decided by the time I got there made that streak of violence and rage fester further. There was nothing for it. I could only walk out of the office and hope for the future. Hope mostly centered on whoever was responsible for this still being alive when we got there so I could inflict weeks of my own pain on them.