Authors: Chris A. Jackson
Tags: #Pirates, #Piracy, #Fantasy fiction, #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Sea stories, #General
They all murmured confirmation, and he continued.
“Count Norris recently visited the island. He did not meet with Mistress Flaxal directly, but he reported that her position was fortified and manned by a well-armed contingent of…aboriginal folk.” He cleared his throat and continued. “Furthermore, he procured a copy of these plans,” he indicated the stolen prototype drawings, “which Master Tomlyn here assures me are of no design that he is familiar with.”
“Nothing
I’ve
ever seen, Majesty,” Tomlyn confirmed. The thin, nervous-looking man was one of the emperor’s naval architects. Norris repressed a smile, pleased that the sovereign had followed his suggestion.
“Consultation with Admiral Joslan and Commodore Twig confirmed that these ships would be small but fast, and very stable. And that they could be employed as warships.”
“Yes, Majesty,” the admiral admitted with a skeptical frown. “Though they couldn’t stand up to much in the way of damage, not like a real warship.”
“Noted. Now, We have received several missives from Mistress Flaxal.” He nodded to Norris, who maintained his composure without difficulty. “She relates her regrets that she was not there to meet with you personally, Count Norris, and she assures Us that she and her people are loyal subjects of the Empire of Tsing.”
“One can hardly expect her to say otherwise, Majesty,” Twig said. He wore a scowl honed by decades of experience as a naval officer.
“Quite, Commodore, but she also states that she knew naught of Our interest in her or her new ship designs until Count Norris’ visit, and that she would be more than willing to — how did she put it?” He moved a page on the table top and scanned the one beneath it. “Ah, yes, ‘show any and all of my current ship designs to Your representatives, including those of my most recent prototype vessel, a variant of an outrigger canoe, and my recently launched three-masted schooner,
Peggy’s Dream
.’”
“A
three
-masted schooner?” Admiral Joslan asked, eyebrows arching.
“Yes, Admiral. She stresses that all her designs, except for this new two-hulled experiment, are intended solely as merchantmen, and that she has no intention nor
need
to produce an armed naval force of her own. She states, ‘a naval force of my own would not only be costly, but
superfluous
.’”
Scoffs and outright laughter broke out, but not from the chief constable, the emperor or Count Norris.
“That is exactly what her representative told me, Majesty,” Norris said stonily, “almost to the letter.”
“Yes, which in and of itself We find curious.” The emperor leveled his gaze at Norris, but the count met it without a hint of the trepidation he felt. “Now, We come to the very recent arrival of Master Keshwani, Our representative in Fornice, with a report that a schooner of Flaxal design has been acting as an
armed
privateer under the Marathian flag along the Sand Coast. This has caused Us further concern.”
Murmurs of surprise and shock circulated around the table. The Tsing Empire currently had no diplomatic connection to Marathia; the recent coup and ensuing violence had been deemed too dangerous for an ambassador to remain in Terokesh. Trade had been interrupted, and only now were a few ships daring to enter Marathian ports.
“If the seamage is supplying Marathia with warships — ”
“One privateer, Admiral,” Keshwani interrupted, “does not constitute a fleet. This could be an isolated incident. But this one schooner took at least six pirate ships in only three months. Four of the ships were captured intact, hauled back to Terokesh and given to the sultan. The other two ships were burned to the waterline. The schooner employed an incendiary device that was quite effective.”
The emperor levelled a stare around the table. “Taking these facts into consideration with the recent spate of rumors, We feel that sending another emissary to Plume Isle is warranted. Does anyone have any reason why this might not be a wise course of action?”
None at the table raised a dissenting opinion. After a suitable pause, Master Tomlyn raised his hand. “One other known fact that does not quite fit with the rest, Majesty, is the association of the shipwright
Kloetesh
Ghelfan with the seamage. He is reportedly working exclusively for Mistress Flaxal, and has even set up a shipyard at Plume Isle.”
“Count Norris’ report confirms that he has indeed built a very impressive shipyard there, Master Tomlyn,” the emperor said. “Why does this not fit with the rest of our findings?”
“Because, Majesty, Master Ghelfan does not design warships.”
“Cynthia Flaxal is quite wealthy, Master Tomlyn. It’s confirmed that she richly rewarded those who aided in the pirate Bloodwind’s defeat. Perhaps she made him an offer…” The emperor’s reasoning trailed off as Tomlyn began slowly shaking his head. “Are you suggesting that Ghelfan could not be induced to produce a warship, even for a king’s ransom?”
“I am, Majesty.” The man’s eyes smiled, though his mouth remained stern. “I know him well. He was my mentor, Majesty. He would not create a vessel of war. It is one of his steadfast tenants.”
“Well!” The emperor sat back in his chair and tugged at his beard, his face a mask of consternation. “Well indeed! We know not what to make of this, other than that it lends credence to the Flaxal woman’s claim that she neither needs nor wants her own navy. It does not change the necessity of sending another envoy. The questions are who to send, and how to approach her.”
Several at the table began to speak at once, Count Norris among them, but the emperor raised his hand and everyone fell silent.
“Before We take suggestions, there is one more subject.” The emperor lifted a piece of fine parchment and squinted at the elegant script upon it. “The merfolk.”
They were all taken aback, some snorting in derision, others emitting a bark of laughter. Admiral Joslan was the first to speak.
“If I may, Majesty, the mer are dangerous in numbers, utterly unpredictable, vicious and, in my opinion, a menace to shipping.” Several around the table nodded in agreement, the count included. He truly didn’t know what kind of menace the merfolk constituted, aside from the warnings of Lady Camilla, but he wasn’t about to discount another potential threat that might convince the emperor of the seriousness of the situation. “If it were within my power to eradicate the sea of them with a wave of my hand, I would do so without pause or compunction. Why does Your Majesty ask?”
“Because, Admiral, one of the letters that We received from Mistress Flaxal outlined in great detail her relations with the mer, and their displeasure with our sending a warship to Plume Isle.”
“Their
displeasure
?” Commodore Twig said with a snort of disgust. “Why should your Majesty’s Imperial Navy give a good god’s damn about the pleasure of the mer?”
“Because, Commodore, as the admiral stated, they are dangerous.” The emperor scowled at the man. “Mistress Flaxal has, using her abilities as a seamage, forged a potential alliance with the mer. We can view this as a threat, a warning, or a boon. She is either marshaling her forces, informing Us of a potential danger, or forging relations with a formerly hostile nation on Our behalf. However We view it, We must decide how to act upon it. She suggests further that sending an emissary to the mer themselves would be wise, to…let’s see…‘preclude any unfortunate response they might levy for past transgressions or trespasses into their territory.’”
“
Their
territory?” the commodore blurted. “And what exactly is their territory? The whole bloody sea?”
“Restrain your ire, Commodore, this instant!” Emperor Tynean snapped, slapping the table top with an open palm. The room stilled to a deathly calm. “Such outbursts are not productive, Commodore Twig. We need to know what the best response to this should be.”
“I regret, Majesty,” Norris interjected, “that I did not include this in my report, but I thought it unimportant at the time. Mistress Flaxal’s representative asked me to compliment the captain of the
Fire Drake
on his prudence in anchoring outside the reef and damaging no coral. When I asked why, she said that damaging coral would anger the mer. I asked why one should be concerned with the mer, and she said, and I think these were her exact words, ‘When a thousand of them swarm over the side of your ship in the middle of the night and seek retribution for the damage to
their
home, you will care.’”
Silence weighed heavily on the group for several breaths. Finally, the emperor stirred.
“Very well, lady and gentlemen. We resolve that an emissary must be sent to the seamage. We also would ask you, Count Norris, to be that emissary, since you know most about the situation at Plume Isle and those involved.”
“I would be honored to serve in that capacity, your Majesty,” Norris said, nodding in acquiescence.
“Very good.” The emperor rose from his seat. Everyone stood, their attention focused, ready for their sovereign’s judgment. “Commodore Twig, you will ready Our flagship
Clairissa
for action with all alacrity.”
“The
Clairissa
, Majesty?” Twig’s face blanched white.
“Yes. We feel it is time to send Mistress Flaxal a clear message. The
Clairissa
is Our icon, Our flag. Also, she is a significant force, if force becomes necessary. You will take command of the expedition, Commodore. The
Fire Drake
and the supply ship
Lady Gwen
will accompany you. The support craft will anchor near shore, but shall not damage coral in doing so. The
Clairissa
will maintain station no more than one mile offshore, and shall stay in signal contact with the
Fire Drake
at all times. A full marine contingent will be housed aboard the
Clairissa
, but kept out of sight and in reserve in case it is needed.”
“Yes, Majesty!” the commodore said with a bow.
Norris suppressed a smile of satisfaction. The
Clairissa
was indeed a significant force; she had a crew of eight hundred fighting sailors, and could berth an additional four hundred marines. She mouted one hundred fifty ballistae and twenty-four catapults, including two siege-caliber weapons.
Let us see, Mistress Flaxal
, he thought,
if you find her superfluous
.
“Count Norris, you will act as diplomatic envoy to Mistress Flaxal. You will also act as diplomatic envoy to the merfolk, if a meeting can be arranged by Mistress Flaxal that is deemed by you to be safe and reasonable. Master Upton will supply you with aides.”
Norris stiffened. He knew the man’s name even if he had never met him. Upton was the emperor’s Minister of Security, but among the court he was known as the Royal Spymaster. “Yes, Majesty!” the count said with a deep bow.
“Our wish,” the emperor continued, fixing the count with a level stare, “is that an amicable agreement be reached, not only with Mistress Flaxal, but with
all
parties. Is that clear, Count Norris?”
“Crystal clear, Majesty.” He bowed again, hiding a grimace; the emperor’s words ensured that his task would be more difficult than if he were left to his own devices. But he could work around that.
“Good. We would ask Mistress Flaxal to accommodate the
Fire Drake
as a permanently assigned Imperial presence at Plume Isle, and We would begin negotiations for the purchase of plans for the two- and three-masted schooners that she has in production, as well as an assurance that the prototype vessel be made available for our naval architects’ inspection.”
“And if she is not so inclined, Majesty?” Norris asked.
“We expect you to exert all of your diplomatic expertise to achieve an agreement, Count. If she remains aloof, remind her that no documentation of her ownership of Plume Isle has been filed with the royal archivist, and that the Empire of Tsing will leave a garrison on whichever island We wish, with or without her acquiescence. We
prefer
a garrison of a single ship with a small contingent of marines on board, but if more is deemed necessary, We are prepared to anchor additional warships within the harbor and house a battalion of marines on the island itself. We do not wish a confrontation, but We also will not allow her to martial forces which may be used to blockade the Shattered Isles.” He nodded to Admiral Joslan. “Military and trade vessels
must
be allowed to pass this strategic area without molestation from her, her ships, or her allies. Is this clear?”
“Yes, Majesty!” the entire group said in unison.
“Good. Please see to your orders and keep Us appraised.”
The emperor left the room, his secretary and the royal bodyguard in tow, and all present began to collect their papers and go their separate ways. As he took his leave, Emil Norris could not help but feel that Master Upton’s eyes were slowly burning a hole into his back.
≈
“This is not good,” Camilla said, sipping port and staring out over the placid tropical evening. “Not good at all.”
“I must agree, Mistress,” Ghelfan said, his ageless features showing wrinkles of worry rather than years.
“I can’t argue. But at the moment, other than sending another letter, there’s not a lot I can do about it. I don’t know where the rumors started, but someone’s got an axe to grind.” Cynthia reclined in her papasan chair and chewed a fingernail. “An army of cannibals and mer, and an armada of schooners armed for war? I can’t believe anyone would even think it.”
“You don’t suppose the good Count Norris started this, do you?” Cammy asked, her tone suspicious. “I mean, he seemed no more than the emperor’s lackey, but what if he has a personal grudge?”
“You mentioned that his family was lost in the islands, but he can’t blame me for that!” She looked to her two friends, but there was little solace in their faces. “Can he?”
“Regardless, I think we should plan for the worst,” Ghelfan said with a frown.
“Define ‘worst’ for me, Kloetesh,” Camilla said.
“A fleet of warships anchored in Scimitar Bay. An occupying force. A permanent garrison. Prison or worse for us. Do you want me to continue?”