In the throne room of Fludavera palace, the guards lined the nine nobles up, on their knees with hands tied behind their backs. Viggin paced before them. Most of them were shaking and sobbing. Three were looking him in the eyes, one with undisguised loathing. The other two on the left end of the group had confused, frightened expressions on their faces.
Viggin stared at them a short time longer and then he spoke. “We brought you men here before Us to address the attempted coup perpetrated by Our brother. Some among you aided in this coup. Some of you do not agree with Our choice of heir. We have all served in our people’s forces. It is a duty from which even we royals are not exempt. Tell Us, whom among you has seen battle?”
None answered. Viggin was incredulous as he continued in a quiet voice. “None? Not a one? Yet you dare judge Prince Erik Avdlak? You may have noble blood, but the young prince is royalty, make no mistake. He is Our nephew. Furthermore, unlike you pampered, pompous, arrogant sycophants, he has, in fact, seen battle. He fought in battle against a force that was more than triple the force he was part of, and he fought the Bruderman berserks who invaded this palace to MURDER US!” His face had reddened with his indigence, as he screamed in their faces.
He turned from them and drifted up the steps onto the dais and took a seat. When he had settled, he looked at the guards behind the men and nodded to the one on the far left. That guard moved to the men, who were looking resigned but defiant and severed their bonds. “You two may go.” The men stood worrying at their wrists, as they sent Viggin a quizzical look. “GO!”
They bowed and left quickly. The remaining men began sobbing and pleading, as a small glimmer of hope presented itself. All except the one staring at the grand duke. Looking at the guard who freed the two men, Viggin raised his chin and turned his head to the right. That guard took out his axe, and one by one, he buried his axe into their heads. Each blow struck made a sickening wet thud, and a squelching noise as he wrenched it free.
The remaining men started screaming and begging, professing their innocence and their loyalty. The cacophony rose, but voice by voice, the volume reduced until it was silent again. As the palace guard approached the last man, Viggin held up his hand. He stood from his throne and walked to stand before the last man. “You are wondering why We spared you. Well, the fact is, We haven’t. You led these men into corruption and treason.” Viggin leant down until he was almost nose to nose, and his voice became low. “You shall Become the Dragon and serve as an example that treason shall not be tolerated.”
For the first time, the man’s face showed genuine fear.
ᚲᚺᚱᛟᚾᛁᚲᛚᛖᛊᚱᛁᚾᚾ×ᛟᚱ×ᛟᚱᚾ
Censor Marius Vinnicus stood near the prow of his flagship. Resplendent in his uniform. Gold-plated steel breastplate with an ornately decorated helmet, and vivid scarlet horsehair crest to match the colour of his ankle-length cape. He marvelled at the sight spread out before him, the largest fleet he has ever seen. Maybe even the largest fleet ever assembled. It was a bittersweet sight. He was certain that more than half of those ships would never see Nevan shores again. He shook his head and moved to confer with his generals.
The general saluted and remained standing at attention, awaiting the censor’s command. “Relax, general. You took care of the arrangements?”
“I did, sir. Forgive me, sir, I do have a question.”
“Speak.”
“Why are we sending the senate guard first? Should we not have held them in reserve after more expendable troops have softened the enemy?”
“A valid question, general. However, no Nevan legionnaire is ‘expendable’. All our boys have value. We have a group of elite soldiers who have done no real soldiering for a generation. Should we not test their mettle? See if we can match myth with fact. I am curious, are you not?”
The general smirked, but then suppressed it. “I see, sir. Very good. Shall I give the command?”
“Please do, sir. Please do. Once they move off, I shall follow in my ship.”
“So we will move the fleet?”
“No general. I will go alone to observe their… performance.”
ᚲᚺᚱᛟᚾᛁᚲᛚᛖᛊᚱᛁᚾᚾ×ᛟᚱ×ᛟᚱᚾ
The fleet of one hundred Holvelan ships stretched across the horizon. The sleek ships ploughing along in the calm waters of the Sofjorland straight. Gereld and Orn agreed not to use their abilities unless it was an emergency. It seemed, however, that fortune was on their side, with fair winds pushing the fleet along.
The fleet was now hugging the Nevan coastline. Orn looked across the lush green vegetation and noticed that in the distance, he could see a sizeable cluster of buildings. He turned toward Thayn. “What town is that over there?”
“If my plotting is as on point, it would be Vateriara. One more day should see us arriving in Paqurineva.”
“We made great time. I wonder what will be waiting for us.”
“I hope a good reception.” Thayn laughed a little and then thought for a few moments. “Right now, our people are on the verge of a civil war, thanks to my idiot brother. We can ill afford a war with the Nevan Empire.”
“Well, whatever awaits, we need to resolve this tension between our nations, and fast. This war may well involve the ambitions of men, but there are much darker forces at play. Just because those Brudermen appeared to be in control of themselves does not mean that Harolf is acting of his own volition. The timing is far too suspect.”
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“You know, your brother will be king. It gives me a sense of hope for the future knowing you will be his mage, and therefore, his advisor.”
Orn smiled in response and then turned back to the horizon. ‘One more day, and we can hopefully put this whole nasty episode behind us.’
ᚲᚺᚱᛟᚾᛁᚲᛚᛖᛊᚱᛁᚾᚾ×ᛟᚱ×ᛟᚱᚾ
Up on the shore, looking out over the sea. “Mama, look! So many boats!” The young boy pointed to the ships as he looked back at his mother.
“Oh? Let me have a look.” The young mother used her hand to shade her eyes. She squinted against the sun’s glare reflecting off the glassy surface of the water, and then her eyes widened.
“How do they move so fast, Mama?”
“Come away, Sami! We need to get home!”
“Mama, what’s wrong?”
Her face had lost all colour as she frantically grabbed her child up in her arms. “The devil has come!”
From the city a little further along the shoreline, bells rang and horns blasted, declaring the danger on the waves.
ᚲᚺᚱᛟᚾᛁᚲᛚᛖᛊᚱᛁᚾᚾ×ᛟᚱ×ᛟᚱᚾ
After the horns and bells sounded from the city they passed the previous afternoon, they doubled the watch overnight.
“Do you think Vateriara will deploy ships to follow us?” asked Orn.
Venna tilted her head in thought a moment before responding. “Maybe. They won’t be able to keep up, though, so I don’t think it will be a concern.”
“We should be close. A matter of hours until we arrive.”
Venna was about to respond when a shout sounded the alarm. “SAIL HO!”
Ahead of the fleet, they could not see any sails. Jarl Sigtrin called out, “WHERE AWAY?”
The sailor who called it out came aft to report. “Sorry, My Lord, no sails. There are what appear to be some Nevan ships ahead, moving toward us under oar.”
“How many?”
“I think forty or fifty, maybe, My Lord.”
Sigtrin turned to Duke Thayn. “What do you think, Your Grace? Do you think they’re hostile?”
“Hard to say. Let us test it.” Thayn then ordered the signal for a flying squad to do a fast sail by.
The signal went up, and the bulk of the Holvelan fleet trimmed sail to reduce speed, and a small squad of five ships leapt ahead. With sail and oar, the ships quickly shrunk as they moved toward the Nevans. In a wide turn, the Holvelan ships moved toward the right of the Nevan fleet. As the ships drew closer, some of the Neven ships peeled off to intercept, accelerating to ramming speed.
Thayn, who was leaning over the gunwale shading his eyes with his hand, pulled back slightly and turned to Sigtrin. “Well, we have our answer.”
Sigtrin gave the order to hoist sail and to man oars. Although not as fast as the ships that sailed by the Nevans, the surge from Sigtrin’s ship at increasing speed was noticeable.
Orn began moving to the front of the ship when he felt Gereld’s hand on his shoulder. “Yes, Master?”
“I shall do this.”
He looked into his teacher’s eyes. “I can do it.”
The creases in the old man’s eyes showed his pain. His eyes tinged with sadness and regret, he looked back at his student, his friend and successor. “Oh, I know you can, Orn. But we are talking about a lot of people. I know that you have had to kill, but I would prefer to keep your soul unburdened by an act such as this.”
Orn stared at him for what seemed a long while, and then he lowered his eyes and nodded. Gereld then moved to the front of the ship. Standing high on the prow, he closed his eyes in deep focus. As though the water had disappeared from beneath the ship, all aboard grabbed onto whatever was near. A wall of water appeared before them. The sudden displacement of water from the gigantic wave caused their ship to descend rapidly into the trough. The ship gradually rose again as the sea settled.
The wall of water moved away from them with an eerie silence. And then they heard the screams. Once the wave had moved past the Nevan ships, half of them were gone. Of those that remained, half again had capsised. As for the rest, the Holvelan fleet descended upon them, unaffected by the tidal wave Gereld had summoned. Gerald sank into the prow of the ship, quiet sobs apparent from the subtle jerking of his shoulders.
Orn moved to check on him. However, Thayn grasped his shoulder and shook his head. “Let him be Orn. He is a man who never shrinks away from what he must do, but deeds such as this… they weigh heavily on him.”
“No prisoners?”
“No. However, we will be taking the remaining ships with us. I mean, what sort of neighbours would we be, were we not to return property that is misplaced?” Thayn gave Orn a wry smile. Orn responded with a bemused snort.
Orn gathered with his family to talk with them about their impending arrival.
“How is Gereld?” Venna asked, concern written on her face.
“I won’t lie. He is hurting. But I think he will be all right. He just needs some time. He may not hesitate to take lives, but doing so is not a simple thing for him. Especially that many at once,” said Orn.
“We can only be grateful the deep waters spared him the sight of what he wrought. May Durren keep them,” Sigtrin said with a hint of resignation.
Orn nodded, and then to his family he said, “I think that small fleet was a fraction of what awaits us ahead. They were immediately hostile on approach.”
As Orn said this, the lookout announced another ship ahead. Jarl Sigtrin responded to the call. “HOW MANY?”
“JUST THE ONE, SIR. BEARING A FLAG OF PARLAY!”
Thayn smiled as he moved toward Orn and his family. “So, now they wish to talk. Well, let’s not keep them waiting.”
The jarl’s ship surged ahead, as the fleet once again held back. As they approached the Nevan vessel, they noticed this ship was larger than the ships they had dealt with thus far. Sigtrin ordered the sail furled and glided toward the immense vessel. As they came alongside, Darius and Appolina emerged from the covered section.
“I would come with you when you go aboard. This is the flagship. It flies under the colours of the military censor.”
Thayn looked at the praetor, and asked, “Are you sure? I mean, it could be dangerous.”
“Any more or less dangerous for a Halder sovereign? I think more danger for you, Prince Thayn.”
“All right, Your Honour.” He then turned to Orn and his family. “Vylder, do you think you can keep your cool?”
“I’m fine. After that sack of turds over there testifies, I will tear his head in half. I have something to look forward to, so I will be fine.”
Thayn arched an eyebrow as he regarded the man for a moment more, and then moved toward the side. As the two ships bumped together, he moved to the rope ladder that was unfurled from the Nevan deck. Appolina moved to make ready to climb when Darius said to her in a stern tone. “Where do you think you are going?”
“I go with you.”
“No, you don’t!”
“Yes, I go. You go, I go. You be quiet, your talk not change this.”
Darius switched to Nevan. “Why are you doing this? And why say it in Halder? You embarrass me.”
“You told me to stay in Halder. I am not a dog. I will go with you and that is final.”
“It could be dangerous!”
“No, it won’t be. Marius is an honourable man. He would never violate parlay, you know this.”
Darius’ shoulders slumped in defeat. “Do what you want. You always do anyway.”
Appolina smiled and patted his cheek affectionately. “Don’t be sour, dear. I know best.”
Venna watched the exchange with an enigmatic smile. Vylder looked at her with a quizzical frown. “What are you smiling about?”
Venna looked at him while still smiling. “Oh, nothing. Just that people can be so different, and yet some things are always the same.” She hummed happily to herself as she gripped the ladder and, with an easy agility, hoisted herself up. Vylder looked confused for a moment, but then shrugged it off. It was his turn to climb, now that Venna was halfway up.