Scimitar War (37 page)

“His Royal Majesty, Emperor Tynean Tsing the Third,” the herald announced, and chairs scraped the polished stone floor as everyone stood.

The emperor entered and took his seat, followed by the crown prince. The doors closed, and the guards crossed their halberds before them; the council was officially in session, and by the emperor’s standing edict, the formalities usually in place in the royal presence were suspended. Anyone could speak without first being addressed by the emperor, and attendees were encouraged to be forthright without repercussions. As they took their seats, Emil hoped that the policy would prove true to its intent.

“By now you should all have read the reports of Captain Donnely and Lieutenant Jundis,” the emperor said as he looked around the table. “We had considered the mage threat to be contained, with the seamage imprisoned and the pyromage apparently dead or…contained, but it seems that the fates are toying with Us.”

A nervous chuckle from down the table was cut short by the emperor’s sharp gaze.

“However fantastic it may sound, the city of Akrotia is a menace to Our empire. It destroyed
Iron Drake
in the Fathomless Reaches nearly a fortnight ago, and has destroyed two of the Shattered Isles by causing their volcanos to erupt. When Captain Donnely last saw it, the city was heading north, Admiral Joslan’s convoy in attendance.”

Lord Rinn, the emperor’s foreign advisor and Norris’ superior, was the first to speak. “Captain Donnely, where do you believe that this…city is heading?”

Donnely shrugged. “I have no idea, milord. Other than the stops we observed at Vulture and Plume Isles, it’s been moving steadily north. We did speculate that it drew power from the volcanoes; it brightened noticeably after each eruption.”

“The entire coastal mountain range is volcanic in origin,” Lord Rinn said nervously.

“But they’re old,” countered Master Upton, “whereas the Shattered Isles are active, at least sporadically.”

“So perhaps it will remain in the Shattered Isles,” ventured Rinn.

“We do not know where Akrotia is heading, or even its location right now,” the emperor said, “but We must assume is that it will continue north. That means that Our southern coastal towns may in danger, as well as…this city.”

Murmurs flitted among the attendees. Emil remained silent, watching the emperor watch his council. After a moment, the emperor raised his hand; silence was immediate.

“We will assume that Akrotia is heading north, and make preparations accordingly. The city of Tsing has been the seat of this empire for sixty generations. We do not intend to see it burn.” The emperor placed his hands flat upon the table, and raked his gaze around the faces. “We need a strategy to combat Akrotia, and We need it quickly.”

“It’s constructed of stone, like any fortress,” said Admiral Lewell, commander of the Tsing naval installation. “Naval bombardment with siege weapons should be sufficient to sink it.” He looked toward General Plank, who commanded the imperial army.

“I agree, Your Majesty,” Plank said with a firm nod.

“Master Tomlyn, your assessment of this strategy?”

The emperor’s naval architect fidgeted in his seat and frowned. “Akrotia isn’t a ship,” he insisted. “And it’s enchanted. We don’t know if it
can
be sunk.”

“Captain Donnely,” said Lewell, turning from Tomlyn in exasperation, “your assessment?”

“Lieutenant Jundis said that Captain Pendergast fired at it, though from his range, he could see no obvious damage. The difficulty with a ship-based bombardment is that any ship within firing range may also be in range of the city’s magic.”

“Captain Donnely!” chided Admiral Lewell. “With your reputation, I would have thought that you’d be first in line to take up this fight.”

Donnely fixed his eyes on the admiral’s. “With all due respect, sir, you haven’t seen this thing. It’s the size of an island, it controls the wind, and it burns like a furnace. Akrotia is not going to sit still while we all gather round and attack it. The city apparently set upon
Iron Drake
concealed by mist and darkness, then drew the ship in with winds so strong that they couldn’t escape under sweeps.”

“You speak as if it’s plotting against us!” said Rinn with a derisive smile.

“Let us all remember,” the emperor interrupted, “that there is a mage’s mind within this city. We cannot underestimate it. Captain Donnely, do you believe that a naval attack is futile?”

“No, Your Majesty,” the captain answered promptly. “I just think that we have to consider our strategy carefully. It may be that the
Iron Drake
was taken unawares. Also, they carried only minimal armament. A more formidable ship may have better luck.”

“To damage the city without succumbing to the same fate, you mean,” the emperor stipulated, but Donnely shook his head.

“No, Your Majesty. I mean
before
falling to the same fate as
Iron Drake
.”

“Your Majesty, if I may,” Commodore Henkle interjected, cutting off mutters from the admiral and general. “Captain Donnely and I discussed this issue extensively last night, and agreed that we need to test Akrotia’s capabilities. We should send our fastest ship to rendezvous with Admiral Joslan and determine where Akrotia is, what has ensued since Captain Donnely left the convoy, and what, if anything, the admiral may have learned about the city’s capabilities or vulnerabilities. We have fifteen warships at our immediate disposal, and if we send another fast ship, we might summon perhaps twenty-five more from the Northern Fleet.”

“Additional ships should be sent to warn the southern coastal towns,” Upton added. “The overland road is far too circuitous for riders to arrive quickly.”

“In defense of Tsing, Your Majesty,” said General Plank, “we can mount large shore batteries on the headlands, and my men can certainly assemble sturdier siege-caliber catapults to replace the smaller machines aboard the ships.” He cocked an eyebrow at Lewell, who nodded.

The emperor nodded, then fixed his eyes on the far end of the table. “Chief Constable Voya,” he said to the woman who had sat quietly throughout the discussion. “What is the feasibility of evacuating the city should these efforts fail?”

“It would be costly, Your Majesty, in both lives and money,” she replied. “There will be riots, especially in the Dregger’s and Downwind quarters. There are also logistical considerations. If we evacuate the nobles first, there will be looting, and if we evacuate the poor first, the nobles will scream bloody murder and confound our efforts. But whatever we do, we need to start soon. The longer we wait, the more panic and deaths there will be.”

Tynean Tsing sat quietly and stared at the lustrous surface of the table as if he sought support or answers from his reflection. Finally the emperor looked up again.

“Any other recommendations?”

“Your Majesty,” Emil said firmly. He had intentionally waited until the worst case scenarios had been presented. “I recommend that we consult the seamage.”

Several people shifted uneasily in their seats.

“The seamage,” the emperor said, narrowing his eyes at the count. “What do you propose?”

Emil felt the weight of every eye in the room on him. He swallowed, straightened, and presented his case. “I propose that we do whatever is necessary to prevent Akrotia from reaching this city, Your Majesty. We should negotiate with Cynthia Flaxal Brelak for her help in stopping this menace.”

The emperor’s stern gaze remained on Emil, and he raised his hand to silence the murmurs that had erupted around the table.

“The seamage is the ultimate cause of all this, Count Norris. You sat in this very room and recommended swift confrontation with military force. Now you recommend that We ask her for help?”

Emil looked the emperor in the eye. His next words might mean the end of his career…or worse. “My initial assessment of the seamage was wrong, Your Majesty. I allowed my personal feelings to interfere. As a result, I made the mistake of recommending a show of force in dealing with her. My decisions and actions, as much as anyone else’s, resulted in the deaths of over fifteen hundred sailors, and the loss of the
Fire Drake
and
Clairissa
. I have reiterated this in numerous letters and reports, yet I sit here, a free man, while Cynthia Flaxal Brelak is imprisoned, and her husband awaits the guillotine. I understand the motivations behind these sentences, but are we willing to risk the lives of thousands of imperial citizens in order to appease a few? We are facing a two-mile wide, fire-enchanted floating city able to control the winds. It has already destroyed one ship and immolated two islands. It is on the loose, and possibly heading here. The city of Tsing is the heart of the empire. Will we allow our heart to be destroyed so we can keep one scapegoat imprisoned? Humility, Your Majesty, seems a small price to pay.”

Emil sat back and lowered his eyes in deference to the emperor’s glare. Deadly silence reigned for several long breaths, and the count reckoned that he had never been closer to a guillotine in his life.

“Your recommendation is noted, Count Norris.” The sovereign’s glare shifted to the naval officers. “Commodore Henkle, ready all warships currently in port for action. Send one of Our fastest ships to summon the Northern Fleet, another to Admiral Joslan to learn of his experiences with Akrotia, and a third to warn the southern coastal towns. Admiral Lewell, commandeer any vessels in the harbor that may aid in battle, and work with the general to arm them. General Plank, prepare the shore batteries as you suggested, and transfer one third of your troops to Chief Constable Voya’s command. Chief Constable, please begin preparations for an orderly evacuation, but make no public announcement yet. Master Upton, disperse your informants to seek out and report on any organized efforts to take advantage of an evacuation. And Ambassador Rinn, inform all foreign dignitaries of the pending threat and organize the necessary precautions to secure their safety. Do you all understand these orders?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” they answered in unison.

“Good. Are there any questions?”

“Your Majesty,” Emil replied uncertainly. “What would you command of me?”

“You, Count Norris, will accompany Us to the Imperial Prison, where we will meet with the seamage and dine on a fine dish of crow.” The emperor glared at him again. “Is that understood, Count?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Emil responded with a respectful nod. He ignored the scathing looks from some who passed him on their way out. He was not out of trouble, but the emperor had accepted his recommendation.
That
was what mattered.

≈

Chula watched silently as workers swarmed over
Orin’s Pride
like ants on a fallen mango, responding to Dura’s orders and encouragement as she supervised. The ship was ashore, propped up on chocks. A full third of her hull planks and the damaged mast had been removed. The job was progressing at a remarkable pace. He closed his eyes and the sounds and smells brought him back to the shipyard on Plume Isle. He sorrowed to think that he’d never see the place as he remembered it. The shipyard was destroyed, and the island overrun with imperials.

“Is there a problem, Captain?” asked a gentle voice.

“No, Mistress Rella,” Chula said. He had been surprised to find that she was Ghelfan’s granddaughter. The shipwright’s legacy, it seemed, was secure. “Dey be knowin’ deir work, sure enough. I’ll give ‘em dat.”

“That they do, Captain,” Rella replied proudly.

“How many more days you t’ink it be takin’?” he asked.

“Four,” she replied without hesitation. “Planking and caulking her seams will take another two days, and painting the hull two more. Have you decided yet where you’ll go?”

Chula had been thinking of nothing else. Captain Brelak had intended that they avoid the imperials, but he had not known about the pirate, Parek. Chula had no doubt that
Orin’s Pride
would be confiscated as soon as they sailed into Tsing Harbor, but the captain would understand. Parek would pay for the deaths of their people, and for what he had done to Miss Camilla. He licked his lips nervously before answering Rella’s question.

“We be sailin’ fer Tsing, but I be havin’ a favor ta ask of you.” He glanced over to where his tall wife was overseeing the shaping of the new mast. “You mind puttin’ up wit’ Paska and Tipos fer a spell?”

“They are welcome to stay as long as necessary,” Rella said with a look of curiosity.

Chula heaved a sigh, partly with relief at her acceptance, and partly with anxiety at his upcoming task. “T’ank’e fer dat, Miss Rella. I’ll be lettin’ dem know dey be stayin’ behind tonight, so if ya hear screamin’ and hollerin’, you jus’ neva mind it.”

Chapter 26

Crow

“Where are you taking me?” Cynthia asked, her nerves jangling like the jailor’s key ring as he led her down the cell block. Her question was met with cold, stony silence. That worried her. The jailor had seemed a decent man, but now he walked stiffly in front of her, not even deigning to turn and look at her, much less answer her question. Two armed guards flanked her as they walked down the long corridor. They left the detention wing and entered an older section of the prison complex. This building showed every year of its age. The corridor was poorly lit, with no windows and too-few oil lamps casting sickly yellow pools of light. The air was dank and smelled faintly of mold. Simple wooden doors interrupted the featureless walls at wide intervals.

Memories of dark cells deep underground haunted her mind. She fingered the scar of her missing finger and remembered the scuttling sounds of rats in the utter blackness. They stopped before a door indistinguishable from any of the others. The jailor selected a large key from his ring, unlocked the door and pushed it open to reveal a short hall crowded with four guards in royal livery.

“She’s all yours,” said the jailor as he urged her forward.

“Wait!” she said, panicked by visions of a quick, clandestine execution.

The imperial guards surrounded Cynthia, two grasping her arms as the door banged shut behind. They ushered her through the only other door. The room beyond was large, bright and airy, a vast contrast from the lamp-lit halls. She squinted and blinked.

“Mrs. Flaxal Brelak,” said a familiar voice. Count Norris approached with a nervous smile. The guards released her arms. “I hope you are well,” the count said, and she nodded. He touched her arm and turned her as the guards stepped back.

“Your Majesty!” she blurted in surprise. The emperor sat behind a burnished table, Lady von Camwynn stationed at his elbow. The sight of the black sword at the bodyguard’s hip sent a shiver up Cynthia’s spine. Resisting the impulse to be defiant, she curtsied. “To what do I owe the pleasure of a royal visit?”