The Invisible Hands - Part 1: Gambit (27 page)

“It's not even that dirty,” Anaxantis tried again, but without much conviction.

“One moment he's decapitating enemies, the next he wants to
clean the floor.”

Ehandar wasn't listening anymore and had already gone to the bathroom to fetch a bucket and a mop.

Anaxantis rolled off Ehandar and turned on his belly, spreading his legs. He looked up at his lover invitingly. Not that he was that keen on the whole experience. He just felt it was something he needed to do, and that now was the time for it.

Ehandar hesitated, half rose and sat on his knees between his brother's legs. Anaxantis braced himself for what was about to come, but nothing happened for what seemed to be a long time.

“I can't,” he heard. It had been almost inaudible.

“Sure you can,” he replied automatically, his face on the cushion and without looking back.

“No, I can't.”

22
Anaxantis half lifted himself on one elbow and looked over his

shoulders. Ehandar was sitting on his knees and heels, between his own outspread legs. His brother's member was completely flaccid.

At first Anaxantis didn't know what to do, how to respond.

Ehandar was just sitting there, his head bowed down.

He turned around, as far as he could.

“Come here, love,” he whispered.

Ehandar looked up and lay down next to him, pressing his face against Anaxantis's chest.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered. He didn't cry. It just sounded immensely sad.

Anaxantis took him in his arms.

“It doesn't matter, love. It's not important.”

Ehandar didn't answer, but just crept nearer to him. Anaxantis pushed his groin against his, and noticed how his lover's member immediately began to grow against his own erection. He almost sighed, and he was annoyed with himself. There was no denying it, however.

He felt relieved.

And not just for Ehandar's sake.

“The first have arrived,” Tomar said, having opened the door to the war room, without entering it.

Anaxantis looked blankly at him.

“The ships. They're in the harbor. Surely, I told you about the ships.”

“As a matter of fact, you didn't.”

“Ah… Well, that whole obsession of yours with wanting to have a ship has set me thinking. Since we need a harbor for your ship, why not use it to help the local economy as well?”

“Precisely what I have been thinking,” Anaxantis exclaimed.

“Tell me you're making this up,” Tomar said, raising one eyebrow.

“No, I'm not. Honestly. I was saying just the same thing to Hemarchidas, just a few weeks ago. Only, I thought it sort of would happen on its own.”

23
“Hm. I've found that if you want something to happen, you'd better
make
it happen, instead of sitting around. Anyway, I sent word to some harbors to the south of us, Grammidal and a few others, that we were looking for several ships—”

“Several? I just want a ship to be able to travel fast… Although, now that you mention it, a fleet, nothing big, mind you—”

“No, no, stop, stop, you spendthrift megalomaniac,” Tomar cried out. “It was just a ploy. I wanted to lure several ships that were up for sale here, so you could choose one. One, you hear me. One, single ship.

To make the voyage more attractive, I had my messengers point out to the captains that nothing prevented them from coming in with a profitable cargo, so that even if they didn't sell their ship, they still wouldn't have come to Lorseth for nothing. Over time we stand to become a cheaper, and faster, alternative to the trade caravans of the Northern Highway.”

“Yes, yes, I knew it. I was thinking precisely the same thing.”

“You know what they say about great minds,” Tomar said, but he sounded skeptical.

“We're in luck, I suppose. A few days later, and we would have been gone to Landemere for Midwinter.”

Tomar shrugged.

“I already sent messengers to Dermolhea, to the Forty, that there are some interesting, read lucrative, business opportunities to be had.

Even so, they will need time to sell their wares. Those who arrive later can wait until you're back. The ones who are here, you—”

“I want to see them right away,” Anaxantis said, reaching for his mantle. “Now, where have I left my sword? Damn thing gets mislaid all the time,” he mumbled.

23
It was but a short ride from Lorseth Castle to Lorseth Harbor, and Anaxantis covered the distance in record time, glad to have a chance to let Myrmos run as fast as he could. The last stretch of the new road ran straight, and he could see the bay from afar. Alongside the half finished quay three one-masted round ships were berthed. To the left of the harbor, where the water was shallower, two flat-bottomed galleys had moored.

A lot of people were debarking, and the captain of the small harbor patrol the prince had ordered to be formed seemed on the verge of a mild panic. To his relief, Anaxantis noticed that Tomar was not far behind him. While he himself stopped before the road sloped down to the beach, Tomar rode on to help the poor captain in his predicament.

It was a glorious sight, and Anaxantis breathed the salty air deep into his lungs.

He frowned.

Suddenly a plan began forming in his head, vague and without clear lines at first. Soon details began to fill in, and his feverish mind started calculating the possible permutations.

A fleet, a small fleet, why not? To begin with a merchant flotilla — nothing grand, nothing threatening. Seeing the ships, their sails lowered, had triggered his imagination into a frenzy. He saw, as on a map, as if he was flying high in the sky, the coastline. South, further down south, and further still… He realized he couldn't finish his budding plans without further intelligence. He needed specific information, and not only from the capital, or from behind the front lines, or even the border itself.

“I can't send anybody from around here. They would stick out and immediately be recognized as Ximerionians. Who then?”

His silent question was about to be answered in a most peculiar way.

23
From up north a galleon was trying to round the pier that jutted out into the sea. Although it was rather small for a three-masted car— rack, the maneuver didn't go quite well. Narrowly avoiding the utmost extremity of the unfinished jetty, the galleon entered Lorseth Harbor with jolted, almost drunken seeming movements. Anaxantis involuntary closed his eyes as the main sail fell noisily, shortly followed by the mizzen. With only the foresail raised, the vessel rapidly lost speed and tried to dock behind the other ships. The pilot misjudged the angle of approach, and the prow of the ship crashed into the landing pier, making the whole structure tremble.

Myrmos startled at the frightening noise and neighed, but he didn't wheel around to haul off. Anaxantis patted his neck in an automatic gesture, never leaving the jetty with his eyes, and made soothing clucking noises. Myrmos whinnied and pawed once.

The prince rode down towards the harbor, where he dismounted.

He handed his horse's reins to one of the soldiers of the harbor patrol.

He made his way through the mass of nervous people thronging on the quay, preceded by another guard who tried, rather ineffectually, to clear the way for him.

Just when he came to the ship that had rammed the quay, the figurehead on the prow, a crudely carved wolf's head, began to fall off with a creaking sound. Finally, it came down with a loud bang.

Lorcko's head was the first to appear, hanging over the ship's rail— ing, his face completely covered by his long, shining black hair. Trying to muster the damage, he first inspected the hull, then the bow. Looking up he saw Anaxantis and smiled, with one hand draping his thick locks over the scarred left half of his face.

The prince waved back excitedly. From the ship came angry cries which contained a lot of sh-sounds. A gangway was lowered and came to rest, precariously askew between the vessel and the wharf. A dazed, 23
pale looking man, who turned out to be the pilot, staggered off the gangplank, shortly followed by a grinning Mukthar.

“Rouwin,” Anaxantis exclaimed. “I knew it was you.”

He pointed at the severed figurehead.

“Anashantish,” Timishi said, taking the prince in a bear hug and lifting him against his chest.

“Put me down. You're tickling me,” Anaxantis protested, snickering. “Why does everybody want to tickle me?”

“Put him down, Timi,” Lorcko, who had meanwhile descended from the galleon, said. “Sorry for the damage, Anaxantis, but what do you expect? They're Mukthars. The seas aren't ready for Mukthars.”

Timishi shrugged.

“I think we've done fine, considering this was our maiden voyage.”

Lorcko looked skeptically at him.

“Ah, some further expenditures to be made, I see,” Tomar, who had just arrived on the scene, said in a resigned tone. He turned to the prince. “Take your time choosing a ship, and then let me negotiate with the owner.”

“Buy the three round ships—”

“What? Have you gone out of your mind? All three of them? Why?

For the love of all the Gods, tell me why.”

“Don't shout, Tomar,” Anaxantis said in a shushing voice. “You're making a spectacle of yourself.”

“Am I, indeed?” Tomar hissed. “Pray, explain to me, why do you need three ships? You can only use one at a time.”

“Oh, they're not for me. I'm giving them to Timishi. Loan them to him, if you will.”

23
“Listen, Anaxantis,” Tomar said, as to a child that wants a particularly unhealthy item of food, “you can't be giving ships away to every passing Mukthar. The treasury can't stand the strain of such extravagant behavior.”

“I'll be wanting one of those galleys, there, on the other side of the harbor, for my own use,” the prince said, as if he hadn't heard him.

“Why, Anaxantis, why?” Tomar implored him.

“To begin with, see those hatches? They're for sticking out oars, so that, in the event there is no wind, or unfavorable ones, you can move on nevertheless. Second, they're flat bottomed. With any luck I won't need to change vessels to sail — or row, as the case may be — on the river Mirax all the way up to Stonebridge.”

“Stonebridge. Because a bridge of wood would be just too plain for His Highness. And that's not what I meant. Why do you insist on doing this to me? Have I offended you in some way? Why are you giving three ships away?”

“I'm giving them to— as a matter of fact, Timishi, what do you call your kingdom?”

“The Kingdom of the Wolf Mukthars, what else?”

The Mukthar quedash shrugged while grinning. Lorcko let out a deep sigh and threw Anaxantis a helpless look.

“I'm giving them to… them,” the prince continued. “I have a plan.”

“Of course you have a plan. You always have a plan. The Gods have mercy on us,” Tomar said.

“For your information: stone bridges last longer and require less maintenance,” Anaxantis added, crossing his arms in a defiant gesture.

23
Renda put plates with chicken and turkey legs, and dishes with a mixture of chunks of dried fruit on the table while another cook's help filled seven cups with warm, watered down, spiced wine.

“Hemarchidas seems to think I've been complacent in regard to our situation,” Anaxantis said, after both servants had left the war room, “but I'm not. On the contrary, I've been thinking a lot about the predicament we find ourselves in.”

Hemarchidas made as if to protest, but Lethoras put his hand on his arm, and he reconsidered. The others, Ehandar, Tomar, Timishi and Lorcko, just waited for what was to come.

“He was right in one sense, though,” Anaxantis continued. “For a long time I hoped to keep us out of the warfare in the south. I admit that I was clinging, against my better judgment, to the hope of being able to isolate us from all foreign involvement. I see now that was an illusion. Lorsanthia is too big a threat.”

“Lorsanthia?” Lethoras asked. “What about Ximerion?”

“Oh, I doubt the concentration of troops near the capital is the beginning of an offensive against Great Renuvia. Father must have a plan up his sleeve, granted, but I would be very surprised if we were its target. He's too smart to provoke hostilities on a second front.”