Having reported to the king the day prior, Lucius arrived at the dawn of the third day with five hundred men at his back, none of them armed. The men with weapons were under the command of the watch captain, standing in ranks around half a dozen cannons pointed at the port, cutting off all escape for the protesting workers.
Valerie was not with Lucius. Her stigmata was not conducive to close quarters, but under the right circumstances was more powerful than the ley cannons. The king had ordered that she take post on one of the rooftops. Although Lucius was not privy to her orders, he operated under the following assumptions.
First, the workmen of the port would not step away peacefully, no matter what legal rights he brought to bear. The reason the men still occupied the warehouses was to have force at hand. This was the reason the guards had not been able to simply round them up and send them to the prison island of Donjon. Second, the king wanted things to go bloody so that he could kill the ideological leaders of the movement and put the blame on Lucius.
Third, if Valerie had any justification of Lucius working with the rebels, then she would kill him. With a bow in her hand, she was able to imbue immense kinetic force into an arrow, enough that she had been able to sink pursuing ships when she was a smuggler. With that amount of energy, no shield would protect Lucius. Of course, he wouldn’t die from simply having his body ripped apart, but in such a state, there was any number of ways he could be permanently disposed of if the king wished. Sent to Donjon at the very least and kept in chains for the rest of his natural life.
As such, Lucius proceeded as though he had no expectation of violence whatsoever. He walked up to the grunts protecting the perimeter and informed them that such and such ships had to be made ready for whaling. He introduced the various seasoned sailors that had been taking refuge in the cathedral and happily informed the workers that the food situation would be resolved.
The protestors were not of a single mind. The volume of them relied on the fiction of virtue that Kerouac wore about himself. When Lucius began assenting to the demands, many of them cheered. They had already begun clearing out one of the warehouses to handle the dismantling of carcasses when the rabble leader came rushing over.
“What is the meaning of this?” the man asked.
Lucius scanned the rooftops, looking for the shadow that was Valerie. “I told you to get out of here, didn’t I?”
The man’s face darkened, his hands balling. “You have no right to do this, you have no power to do this! You there, stop that at once. Put everything back!” he barked, pointing to a man harnessing a horse to a cart laden with barrels.
Lucius took out the letter the Montisferros had given him and handed it to Kerouac. “I actually do have the right to use every warehouse in this port.”
Kerouac nearly tore the parchment as he ripped it from Lucius’ grasp. “This is only for unused warehouses.”
“Warehouses not occupied by current commercial activity.”
“You are emptying them of commercial goods! What nonsense are you spewing?”
Lucius pointed to the confused man with the horse. “You there, what’s in those barrels?”
The man popped one of the lids, peered inside, and said, “Iron ingots from Jarnmark, packed in sawdust, m’lord.”
Lucius nodded and turned to Kerouac. “Bit useless sitting in a warehouse. Those need to be sent to the smithies to be put to use. But, that’s exactly the kind of commercial activity your protest put a stop to, isn’t it? Which means these warehouses aren’t being used. It’s just trash collecting rot and rust. Meanwhile, I’ve got over five hundred men ready to sail into the sea under the blue flag of the temples. Hungry men, with hungry children, who have the legal right to use this port. Mister Kerouac, I think you’ll realize I have both the right and the force to do this.”
“You think you can just march in here and do this?”
“Yes, I do,” Lucius said, and continued standing in the middle of the port as ship owners began to arrive, surrounded by personal guards, to direct the new sailors to various vessels. They sneered at the portmen. They denounced sympathetic captains and discharged officers. Oaths to Sapphira were made flippantly and the whole port soon realized what was to become of the men who had worked their entire lives there.
It wasn’t long after Kerouac stormed off that the first cannon was fired. Shrapnel cut a path through dozens of men, men who had squared off against the guards without any understanding of what had transpired between Lucius and Kerouac. With the single strike of a hammer, fifteen lives were snuffed out. Watch Captain Hartley gave the order to draw steel before the portmen could consolidate and the bloodshed began.
Lucius made no move to intervene. He stayed in full view of everyone, calmly directing new sailors to old ship owners. Contracts were hastily arranged with the backing of the temples, all confident no malfeasance would occur. The only men who had been chosen from the masses of refugees were those whose families lived by the charity of the clergy and thus their loyalty far surpassed the men who had been convinced to lay down their work.
No kinetic strike rained down upon Lucius from Valerie’s bow.
It is an assassin’s lot to be in the shadows, where few if any will see or hear, and woe to the assassin that must work in an unfamiliar city. With the blue sky above, there were only a handful of vantage points she could have taken. More than a typical bowman, but with the knowledge that she would be further, the options were in fact limited more. While she had to wait until Lucius gave her justification, others had no need to wait further than the turmoil of the cannon shot. Arrows and knives emerged from shadows deeper still and her shouts and cries went unnoticed as the guards put down the last embers of riot.
Some men asked why Lucius was smiling as the guards marched through the port and he remained untouched. He had only to say, “Because tomorrow, I go home to my woman and my child.” The new sailors laughed and called him a womanizing bastard with a bastard.
Kerouac was formally arrested, irons clasped around his wrists and ankles. Hartley was too harrowed from the effectiveness of the cannons to bother shutting his mouth as he ranted. The man’s eyes were on Lucius as they took him away, and he swore, “Justice will come for you! For all of you. Your throats will be slit. Your coffers will be spilled into the streets. None of you will know peace until the day you are tried and hanged!”
When the man’s voice could no longer be heard, Watch Captain Hartley said, “The king will expect you to report to him.”
Lucius said, “The king expects his fiancee to be safe.” He gestured to the great sailing ship approaching the dock. But a few sails were open and a handful of oars helped guide it. The flags of Jarnmark billowed. At once, guards marshaled upon the dock and stood at attention as mooring lines were tied.
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Despite the sailors running about her to tie lines and work the ship, Frederika Ashe stood at the prow. Even with a wool cloak wrapped about herself, it was obvious who she was by the mere glimpse of her face. Likewise, she stood watching Lucius upon the dock. A carriage was pulled up as a small retinue of guards descended the gangplank. A young man, his armor enameled sky blue, approached Lucius. “Was there a problem here?”
“It’s been taken care of. I’d recommend you don’t loiter.”
The guard nodded, inspected the state of the docks and smelled the blood in the air. Then, he gave quick orders to split the company. Some were to accompany Frederika and a pair were to bring the luggage separately. The heir of the Ashe family was thus allowed to disembark and she strode to the carriage. She entered quietly, sat down, and asked, “You’re coming, aren’t you?”
Lucius forced a smile. “I’m glad to see you’re well, but the king has tasked me with resolving the issues here at the docks.”
“If there are issues in the city, then I think my safety is most important, and I can think of nobody in the entire kingdom more capable than you for such a task. Now, must I ask again? The carriage is growing cold waiting for you, Sir Solhart.”
Lucius was–correctly–of the opinion that there were several people more capable of protecting another than he was. Leomund first among them. He stepped into the carriage regardless. The driver snapped the reins as soon as the door was shut and the young guard seated at the front. The moment they began moving, the stiffness in Frederika’s posture vanished. “You would not believe what has been happening back home in Jarnmark this winter. Mother is still utterly useless the death of my father. Auntie has been forced to take all the meetings and she’s getting absolutely bombarded by merchants with the most outrageous demands. It’s like they want to overhaul our entire system of taxation. What does means-tested even mean? Do you know?”
Lucius could only turn his hands up. “It sounds like an obfuscation. I couldn’t possibly tell you their intent.”
“They want a new judicial body, have you heard about this? There’s this group calling themselves cartographers that are arguing that the official maps are inaccurate and have led to our Ashe family seizing land owned by the common people. They want all iron mines in the region to be held in common by the people and that the head tax should be replaced by an export tariff of all iron, even within Vassermark. The king would call that a revolt if we implemented that!”
“Do not implement that,” Lucius said. “What they would do is undermine every acre of land your family owns and seize it, calling it an iron mine.”
“Tell that to Edvin! That shit of a brother of mine was ordered to the academy and he’s been utterly delinquent. He’s been cohorting up and down the western coast sleeping with everything with tits and a pair of legs he can get his hands on. I’d say he wants to get disinherited, but he’s been more flagrant than ever, because Auntie Ruby doesn’t have the heart to cut off his credit. Please, if he ever does show up to the Academy, it’ll be to seduce women like Aria.”
“If my sister wants to–”
“She’s not your sister,” Frederika said, leaning forward abruptly.
He tried to gauge her and said, “What are you talking about?”
“I don’t know how you changed your face, but I know you’re not the real Solhart. Half the kingdom is trying to figure out who you really are. I’ve heard that you’re a northern spy. I’ve heard you’re a demon from another world. People were surprised when you suddenly became competent down in Giordana, but most wrote it off as you simply maturing. But, the real Lucius von Solhart would have never stood up to Acheliah.”
“Don’t believe gossip.”
“I’ve been in the room with the king for these conversations! You lied to King Charles about killing the rebel. You could be tried for treason.”
Lucius scoffed. “Try me for boasting? When they don’t even have proof? They’d have to bring Rodrick out in chains for that, and they can’t because he’s no longer of this world.”
She shook her head. “You’re right that they can’t, but it’s not for lack of evidence. The king thinks you’re a spy, but he also believes it’s better to use a known spy than to get rid of one and have another.”
Lucius couldn’t contest the logic of that. He knew perfectly well how useful it was to control information going to the enemy. “If I was a spy, you’d hang right beside me for what you’re saying right now.”
“You’re not a spy. I know that. I’ve known since I saw you fighting to protect me.”
“A spy would do that, you know. Protects his identity.”
“You’re not a spy. You’re a little boy from Jarnmark who was sold by his parents to a circus and learned how to act. A boy who protected two dumb noble girls that treated him like a toy for their own amusement. One who can’t be killed by any wound and only chooses to be part of society because he very well could survive in the wilderness, with all of its monsters, on his own, under his own strength. Perhaps you could be called a spy, but not for Aillesterra. You’re a spy infiltrating Vassermark for the kingdom of You.”
Lucius frowned as the cobblestones smoothed and the carriage arced over one bridge after another, approaching the palace. She had run out of breath by the end, and said nothing more, awaiting his response. “The king thinks I’m working for the Aillish?”
She sighed. “You were let go from an Aillish pirate ship and then, reportedly, met with one of the commanders of the army, a one-eyed woman known to work for the Aillish.”
He laughed. “She’s not Aillish. She’s a mercenary. She’d work for me if I could pay her what she wanted.”
“You’re not helping yourself, saying things like that.”
“I don’t need to help myself. The king can think whatever he likes because he knows he can’t afford to do anything against me. He needs me, even if I’m not the real Lucius. He needs to use me like a lightning rod to attract the attention of his enemies, and I’d suggest you keep your little theory to yourself, Erika. If people were to start thinking that the greatest military commander of the kingdom, currently alive at least, was a low born usurper, they’d start asking what else a low born could do better than the nobility. They’d do more than try to change a few laws.”
The carriage came to a stop as the gates of the palace were opened. She pulled the curtain back a moment to show her face to the guard, then shut it tight again. “I won’t tell anybody.”
“Keeping secrets from your husband?”
She scowled. “We’re not wedded yet. And you’re right. Whether or not you’re the real Lucius, the king needs you regardless. Who else would he send to fight our wars? Gabriel?”
“The king would go himself, if he had to.”
Frederika sighed. Both of them could hear the carriage coming to a stop. “I told my father about my suspicion, did you know that?”
“The duke made no such implications to me.”
“He admonished me for it. Said that poor boy was sent to his death by the stupidity of my mothers. He regretted not killing Jacque himself, but perhaps you heard that Acheliah beat him to it?”
“What? That bastard?”
She smirked. “He went to go complain a number of years ago, but that’s not important. Jacque was wrong about so many things. We humans can’t live without each other. Congratulations on your child. I think I forgot to say that earlier. I can’t stop my fiance from threatening the women around you, but if he ever threatens your child, I’ll slit his throat in his sleep.”
Lucius smiled. “Jacque was half-right. I could thrive alone in the wilderness. I just wouldn’t be a man, I’d be a monster.”
“You’re not a monster.”
“I’ll become one, if I have to; and, I need everybody to know that,” Lucius said as their carriage stopped and the men outside got off.
“I hope you never have to,” she said as the door was opened. She rose and exited, her face stoic and dignified. Before she proceeded into the palace, she said, “Lucius is a good name. It suits you.”
Lucius exited the carriage after her, letting her proceed. With a mind to have a meal before reporting to the king, he started toward the barracks but one of the serving staff came striding toward him.
He was an older gentleman, but bore none of the royal heraldry embroidered upon his clothes. He had the symbols of Sapphira instead. “The angel Acheliah has requested your presence, Lucius von Solhart.”