Chapter 133: Chapter 120: Kreshton Rising(2)
Salamede POV
The next day was spent doing more collars for the troops then inspecting various quarters and their production. In the back center of our city were two long rectangular buildings with glass tops and mana lamps between their steel supports. Fields of wheat grew on long stone slabs filled with rich soil, though it was the plant enchantments beneath that deserved most of the credit. The next rotation would be flax, then beans. It was a far more involved process than any of us expected even with the base's own farms acting as a guide. Something that clearly needed a dedicated council seat. We'd probably mix it in with the overseeing of fishing.
My visit to the right side of town took me to the forges and coke ovens. I felt a bit pretentious calling three furnaces and an anvil forges, but this involved magic so there was no real limit to the gaudiness allowed. The three domes sat in a semi-open building with wide sides where the fires were being worked in the open air. Inside these were mana crystals belching wide streams of flame. Menkie was working with some apprentices, mixing the flames of mana crystal with bits of coke.
We could have all the heat we needed, but doing that while efficiently managing our mana demanded some of the more mundane means of making fire. A mix that would take some experimenting to perfect. Off to the left was our resident metal mage working his element on a bench similar to the tailors.
He was a thinner thing in his late teens, with a brown fur that matched his spiral horns. Unlike his fellows in thick leather aprons, he had a simple coat over his white shirt and grey pants. He needed the free movement to work those irksome joints and interlocking pieces with his crafts. What would have taken days of detail work for a regular smith took his magic a few hours.
It was nice to have some metalworking ability for our city, but his presence reminded me of how rare our kind was. A hundred and seventy-some of our people had gotten to caster status with our extravagant meals. The rest were stuck in crafter, but that made little difference as long as they could see mana. Out of all those, me and him were the only dual elements.
From what I remembered of the Diamond Academy ratios, Jeff not included since he came from elsewhere, that seemed to be a rather generous proportion. That still didn't make it less jarring to see firsthand how rare it was out of nearly two hundred people. And I was pretty sure my status wasn't the random chance it was for him. The thought that my diet of Eli's… resources had given me better chances was a rather loud possibility.
Not that testing it out was ever going to happen.
I went about the regular reports from Menkie. Good progress all around. They found it rather irritating that we were now strictly guarding access to the forges, but there was no helping it. Having some of our new arrivals ask why the lost civilization was still figuring out its recipes would raise too many questions.
I moved about getting my meals and seeing to the sprawl of tasks before retreating to my private hole. When it was late afternoon, Kantor found me at my desk. He was clad in full armor, but despite his knightly appearance he still had that walk and discipline between soldier and thug.
'We're ready to shove off. The men insisted on me thanking you for the healing collars.' He offered in a spirit connection.
'And we've done all we can to mitigate losses?' I asked him with a lean back into my chair.
'Thrice over. The men are getting on-demand healing and some extra healing crafts on the ship in case those fail. The workers have had no trouble doing the proper tosses and working the fire crafts. There is nothing left but to follow through.' He replied in a firm tone, leaving no argument to be had.
'Then do it.' I replied with a note of finality.
The man knew that sending people into danger wasn't an easy thing for me. But it had to happen all the same and I couldn't always be there to make sure it went smoothly. It was something he knew would bother me no matter what was said, so he left immediately with a bow and turned to walk out the door.
Instead of sitting around worrying like a mother with her son going on his first hunt, I did a few more collars. Eventually, the spiderweb of pain came as it always did and I had to stop. The world had so many flavors of worry. Worry over friends risking their lives, husbands going into battle, food stocks, sending people to their deaths, and on, and on. A diverse serving of anxiety that I felt I had sampled from one end to another. It filled me even as I tucked into bed.
When a knock came at the door, I instantly knew what it was for.
"Let me get ready!" I called back.
A push on the mana lamp above my bed illuminated the room and, most importantly, the wardrobe. The green dress was thrown on again. I moved towards the door, my body telling me it was too late to be doing this but the buzz of anticipation and dread overrode any sluggishness.
Opening the entrance to my office, I found Kantor in front of my desk. The relaxed shoulders and small smile quelled the churning in my gut.
'How did it go?' I asked in a spirit connection as I moved to the desk, an ember of hope in my chest that I dared not feed.
'Better than expected.' He declared with a full smile, pulling off his helmet to hold in his right arm. 'The ports and ships are ash and we pummeled most of the offenders into mush. Even got some people I think are worth trading. Or gifting to the humans.'
'Any casualties?' I asked with some trepidation.
Kantor huffed like he was explaining something to a demanding daughter.
'No, those babies got through it just fine. Between the fire crafts and catapults, the pirates only got a few volleys of arrows off. A lad took one in the shoulder. Barely had a moment of discomfort thanks to our healing collars before it was patched up. Try to enjoy the victories, Salamede. We may not always win or with so little blood.'
I only nodded, too happy to let the warning soak in. With the potential crisis over, tiredness started clawing its way back into my bones.
'Anything else?' I asked, feeling the call of my warm sheets.
'The Messineens' clan. Their chief is dead, but his surviving widow, son, and grandfather were kept alive along with about thirty other assorted citizens. I'd imagine the pirates would have killed them all off eventually, but that postponed decision has found its way to us. I had them all moved in with the rest of the refugees. An increase of guards took some doing but everyone got settled in.'
I could guess what that would be needed for.
'Do we have troublemakers in the lot? I can't imagine the former clan members felt very relieved when they realized who saved them.'
A small laugh from the black-furred man reverberated around the room.
'I'll remember their faces till my dying day. But it was the humans who tested things first. We had one of the pirates try to make a move. Not fast enough to stop one of us from crushing him into a paste with a block of magical stone. The prisoner's haven't seen how we got here, in case you're worried.
The surviving clan members have been saved by a legend that's come back from the dead. Only, unlike those shuffling about in some of the northern outposts, we remember their people's past actions. They're scared but compliant. Especially when they realized almost all of our guards are mages.'
'Good. Let's-'
'Go back to sleep.' Kantor only half suggested.
I shrugged as part of me agreed.
'I'm already up. Might as well see what bits I can see to.'
He placed the helmet back on his head.
'Conducting diplomacy while half-asleep seems like one of those ideas that is just bad all the way through. I only bothered you because you'd be surly about being left out come morning. Now that you know what happened, you can get a full night's sleep.'
I had to admit I was at the age where going back to bed was no longer a punishment, especially this late.
'Have the council get ready for tomorrow. Dealing with the survivors will be something we should decide on first thing tomorrow.'
He gave me a nod as we both left the room from opposite ends. It took only a moment to fall back asleep and it felt about as long to find myself awake again. A quick shower and dressing into the pink and teal dress that I had helped the refugees in took a few minutes. Breakfast was served in the conference room with all the council members wearing the same clothes as yesterday that became semiofficial uniforms for their positions.
On my right was a very tired Kantor, with an enthused Joeseen further down. Sheeka took up my left. Our master of the forges was a bit late, arriving at the further left seat as the rest of us were finishing our bowls of fish soup.
"I don't want to keep our guests waiting. What should we do with them?" I announced to the group.
"We can't keep them here," Sheeka responded with certainty. "We'll be quadrupling our number, at minimum, with the refugees from the wastes. Housing won't be an issue, but everything else will be running at its limit. Taking on another two hundred or so with the ones in Crasden? We don't have the means."
Kantor, despite his lethargic demeanor, nodded in agreement.
"It's not just the number of bodies. The refugees won't dare risk so much as sneezing wrong if they think it could get them hoisted out of this little paradise. The Messineen clan? They have every reason to believe we have some points of revenge to settle. That might make them try to parse out how we survived their betrayal, or decide to try any number of things I will not have the guards to see to."
Joeseen nodded to his fellow, leaning over the table in his blue robe with crude waves.
"Their former hold is also an issue. A spot that far south and still having its defenses against the surrounding woods… mostly intact would probably be snatched up by another clan in short order if left unattended. It's ours for now by right of the victor. But we need to start putting men in if we want to have it firmly in hand."
"No." I flatly declared to the group, drawing all eyes to me. "That would be seen as far too aggressive."
Menkie strolled his fingers on the table.
"That doesn't feel very… clan-like. This is all a glorified charity, at the end of the day. But we still have to play the part demanded of us."
Sheeka seemed a bit interested in that aspect of our charade.
"We're a clan from long past. What would be our motivation in doing any of this if not expanding our reach?" She asked with a look around the table, flapping her leather cap as she did so. A look that Kantor leaned forward to meet.
"The story we agreed on was: We're declining in numbers." He punted to the group.
A round of nods went through the esteemed council as they remembered their life stories. Something Kantor emphasized with a pointed finger towards me.
"And you're the upstart whelp with dangerous ideas. Wanting to refresh the bloodlines, greet the world, and such."
"But I'm tragically infertile myself."
"Yes." Kantor agreed as he leaned back in his chair. "And we're the elderly curs who just want to die out with the old ways."
"Sounds right." I agreed, to another series of head bobs.
"And what does such a group do next?"
"Compromise?" Joeseen mused. "Having the Messineen be our vassals would meet both our factions halfway."
I pulled back in my chair, thinking over the proposition while Menkie stroked his goatee with his question.
"Could they even recover enough to serve as a vassal?"
"Rebuilding the place?" Kantor responded "Not happening. After we restore it with stone? Yeah, they would have enough people to run the harbor. They'd probably end up taking a lot of strays in with all the available space. They might even be better than before depending on how well we do the restoration."
Menkie seemed the most enthused as he leaned across the table, pushing aside his bowl and mug as he did so.
"The masons are idle right now. If we want any more houses built here, we'll have to build out the stone base more. I want to say it would take a few months before anything else could be added here."
Eli had been the one to design my current residence due to the need for eye-catching extravagance. Houses, piers, and walls, however, were well within the ability of the few builders that tagged along.
"There could be other benefits beyond a show of benevolence." Joeseen offered with a rub of his robe. "We could use them as a halfway point. Any goods for us or requests for entry could be handled at their hold. Diplomatic visits could skip the line by coming to us directly, but besides that, we could have our ships take the goods here instead of random traders. It would make the chaos in the port a lot more manageable, not to mention security."
"That seems like a lot of work," Sheeka said, sounding tired at the prospective work already. "Taking it off ships and putting them back on only to have to offload them again sounds like a lot of work for nothing."
"Ah!" I butted in with a raised finger. "But you wouldn't care about that. I can see the problem, but you lot still twisted my arm to make it happen so we wouldn't have so many of the dross about. Not to mention the offense of those magicless curs thinking they're worthy of coming to our grand island of their discretion."
Remembering her bigotry, the woman nodded in agreement before gulping down the last of her soup.
"So," Joeseen said with some aplomb, "Who's going to be the one having a fit about helping them? It can't be me, I've already dealt with the refugees, who, I might add, were very taken with my usual charm."
"I could another time," Kantor said. "But I'm too tired to be appropriately bitter right now."
"For this round," Sheeka offered, "I can do it. Maybe Menkie will take the next forum discussion."
"I'll offer a few words of… discouragement if the need arises. But, yeah, I'll be the main baddie for the next public meeting."
"Well, I'm ready to go," I announced to the group.
One last round of nods went around the table. Our meeting finished, we got up from the seats. Making our way into the main forum with its stone benches, I found a long couch of fluffy white fur near the door to my room. It was splayed out like an oyster half-shell, perfect for lounging or sitting straight up. It wasn't the grand majesty of a throne on high, but I was going to be doing a lot of business here in the future and I would do a lot for my people, the mission, and my husband's vision. Putting my butt through that agony wasn't one of them. Besides, the dome was already thrice as intimidating as anything the other clans could build.
We took up our positions, with Kantor on my left and Joeseen past him. They were each given a tall chair of red stone flecked with grey, engraved in golden leaves, and a sun on the headboard. Sheeka eventually took up my right with Menkie beyond when their chairs arrived. The whole stage was lit up with the golden glow of mana lamps dotting the walls. Our little charade was now ready to begin. Taking one last breath, I nodded to the fully armored guard near the main door.
The hulking mass of steel pushed the door open to a gust of chill wind. He braved winter's bite, heading through the door and returning a few minutes later with the closest thing to leaders the Messineen had left. A grandfatherly figure, using his cane to move through the door. His unsteady walk left his slightly torn blue robe swaying around his large brown horns that matched the bits of fur yet to grey.
Behind him came two others. A mid-30s woman with grey fur and stubby brown horns. Her green dress had similar wear to the older man, though the boy barely out of his toddler years clutching her knees probably didn't help. The lad was a smaller version of her in all features save his sex and well-fed frame. He was just about the cutest thing I had seen here or in the Coalition with big cheeks that called out for pinching. The fact his blue shirt and brown pants were almost untouched left me impressed with the mother, despite how passive I kept my face.
The mother and son stopped almost immediately when their eyes stopped staring at the ceiling long enough to see us. A gulp from the man was all that could be heard for a moment as they stood still. Fear was barely hidden on the mother's face, though she kept it in check for her child. The boy didn't bother noticing us, instead, his white eyes continued taking in the sheer size of the room. No one moved for a moment until I realized they were waiting for some kind of indication of what they should be doing.
"Step on the golden circle, if you would," I announced with a voice that carried in the silent forum a bit louder than I intended.
The man moved forward with as much grace as age would grant. His female companion followed while making sure to keep behind him. Her child seemed to just notice us, taking us in and standing still when they arrived at the golden circle.
"How have you found things?" I asked him in an even voice.
The man's jaw quivered for a moment, but he seemed to have some experience in diplomacy as he quickly recovered.
"Tremendous, great lady. I might compare what I've seen to our meager attempts, but I would not insult your achievements by making any such equivalence."
I allowed myself a small smile.
"You speak well for someone so nervous. A chair." I declared to one of the guards who promptly went to the meeting room to fetch one.
The elder seemed torn between refusing and listening to what had to be screaming knees. Any choice he had vanished when the steel-clad guard delivered the item in question. He had a moment to take in the mountain of shining steel setting the chair down, noting the intricacies of the engravings on the steel plates. The boy seemed pretty enthused about being that close to all that shiny metal, even looking behind his mother at the retreating soldier.
"Many more thanks," The older man offered as he settled in with his cane over his knees.
"My name is Passmede," I stated in a friendly tone. "Now that I've given my name, would you give me yours?"
"Hentor, if it pleases you." He offered back.
"Can I assume some relation to the former chief, Hentor? I was told the leadership of the remaining Messineen clan isn't a very straightforward thing."
"Yes." He agreed with that sideways head bob. "I was his father. Behind me is my son's widow, his fifth wife, and accompanying her is his last surviving heir."
The boy's protruding cheeks wobbled with his sideways head bob.
"Heir?" I asked.
"In many ways, yes." The old man conceded, "We're the last of our clan's ruling family. Once he's of age, the lad will have to decide how much he wants to fight for the seat or corral supporters into letting him have it. Until that day, I will be overseeing things for as long as this body holds out."
I strummed my fingers on a pillow, thinking it over.
"Should I assume that the issue of leadership will be settled for the foreseeable future then?"
"If I should be taken before the lad makes his decision, then the heads of the three biggest families left will form a council. Our lands are harsh and we know well the danger of staking too much on one person."
Kantor decided to butt in with a cough.
"If you're going to keep the clan together, I can't imagine you'd move anywhere but your hold."
The older man gripped his cane. Despite that, he released a held breath.
"We lack the means to rebuild our old home by ourselves, your greatness. Lord Kantor told us a good number of our people fled to the human city in the south. People we obviously have no means to retrieve. Perhaps an arrangement could be made? The other clans have no debt to you and we will make sure ours is repaid." Hentor almost bit his tongue at the last, like he was pushing his nerves to their breaking.
Sheeka chose that moment to make her position known.
"Oh, the Messineen definitely have debts to us that need repaying." She stated with narrowed eyes and cold fury brimming in her voice.
The old man had a bit of sweat drip down his snout at that. The woman grew tense, pushing her charge against her legs while she looked back towards the closed exit. After a second, Hentor finally got his tongue moving.
"So, you are that clan?" He said, sounding like he was asking a wolf if it was hungry.
"Kreshton. Correct." I responded.
He looked down as he vacated the chair. His hands moved across the floor as he got on the floor and placed his forehead against its stone.
"I only ask that you let our mothers and their children go to meet up with the survivors. The rest of us will perform any labor needed for that older debt."
Sheeka lived up to her fiction standing straight up from her seat, eyes wide and snout flaring. That left me to prepare an air spell as she moved.
"Do you think there is any amount of labor scum like you could perform that would-"
*BANG*
The scream of wind drew everyone to me, even the man on his knees.
"Sheeka," I said with the patience of a tired mother. "Do you speak for the clan?"
She took a deep breath, meeting my gaze for a moment. I summoned long shafts of water around me before molding them into crude blades. Six swords of shimmering liquid danced around my head even as they pointed to the upstart council member.
"No." Sheeka finally admitted.
"And do we need to reaffirm the reasons why I sit here and you there?" I asked.
"No." She said, getting back into her chair with a clenched jaw.
"Good!" I proclaimed with some cheer as the water around me disappeared. "Hentor. Whatever past action taken by your clan was done on the orders of people long dead. You may return to your seat."
He did so with a pulling of his robes. The look of coming vomit was no longer on his face, but when he got comfortable in the chair, I could see his knuckles going white from gripping his cane.
"The scale of such a commitment doesn't allow for half measures." I continued in a friendly tone. "As things are, if we retrieve your people from the south right now, they'll starve to death in short order. Between rebuilding everything, maintaining the defenses, and getting daily needs met, I wouldn't say your people can survive on their own. Would you care to be put under our auspices?"
It was the politest way I could think of to offer vassalage. Hentor seemed to appreciate the tone though he had some concerns.
"What would entail such servitude? I'm not in a position to refuse, but there are certain obligations we simply can't meet for the foreseeable future. Almost all of our fighters were killed along with our crafter."
"Nothing unexpected." I calmly refuted. "We need people who know the trade of the north and south. Our clan can remake the foundation and buildings, this time with more defenses and a mage to oversee the mana side of things. Councilor Joeseen will discuss our needs with you in detail, but the main items are acting as a checkpoint for anyone wishing to visit and a stop-off for any goods requested by us. Of course, we'll be providing food until your harbor is bringing people in again."
He bobbed his head sideways with enough eagerness to shake the neck of his robe.
"I'd imagine that they'll be busier than ever before. We will make sure that your people's generosity is known to any ear willing to hear. If I could be so bold as to suggest something, I should probably come with you to assure my fellow clanmen of the truth behind your arrival."
The council looked at each other for a second before we all turned back to the guests, with Kantor, Menkie, and Sheeka sporting stiff frowns.
"An excellent idea. I think it is time to do rather than discuss doing." I proclaimed, pulling up and out of my soft couch.
Hentor got off the chair with a slight wobble when his feet hit stone. Both he and the woman did a deep sideways head bob, something the boy attempted but nearly toppled as he put a bit too much force into the motion. The mother recovered his balance for him before turning him around to leave. When they got close enough to the door for a guard to open it, all three drew back at the sudden cold of winter for a moment until they finally pushed forward. As the door finally closed with a smack, a few sighs of relief went through the 'venerable' mage council.
"I have to say Sheeka," Kantor said with a smirk over the ever-present sound of wind. "I didn't really feel that scathing bite bigotry usually has. It was more like… being aggressively annoyed."
"Come on," She huffed back with a twist of her light brown and cream dress as she left her seat, "That pup was too adorable for me to go far with it. I do hope he doesn't think too ill of me."
"He was damn cute." I agreed with a stretch of my arms.
The council promptly disbanded to see to their daily toils as I retreated to my office. It was a few more hours of busy paperwork before Kantor came back with a knock.
"We're all ready. The masons are heading out to restore the hold. We just need to bring two ships and I assume our leader to negotiate."
I forgot to mention my intention to go in person. It was nice to have some people who knew enough about me to already know what I wanted without saying it.
"I'll get ready."
When he left my office, I sprinted back to my room and brought out my best piece of fashion. A long dress of light green with blue trim. At the neck were gold triangles radiating out from the hole. Brushing up against gaudy, it was the tailor's best match to the cloth and paintings left behind by my ancestors in the now demolished tower.
My trip to the military portion of the harbor was bereft of chill winds, though the grey skies still smothered the sun. The big rectangles with a street between each numbered nearly seven with the newest getting its back end worked on. It was a bitter walk across the road from the civilian harbor, but it was at least done with the company of guards and sailors. We were bringing two ships this time, with only the Interceptor hiding in the clouds above keeping watch. I was told over the radio box that the next airship was due in a week or so. Behind schedule, but still moving towards the end.
Two wide doors like those of a barn made up most of the backside of the enclosed harbors. Around the sides of the doors were bits of bare stone showing where the building's inner heat had melted some of the snow still sprinkled around. My retinue of steel-clad men moved to open the doors and help move along a small hiccup in traffic as carts of food were being onboarded to the ship within.
Inside was a stone dock wrapped around the wall save the back. At the center was another example of our ships. The long half-oval of wood was facing landward with its sails furled. A long loading plank was placed on the left side as workers loaded sacks and crates. I patiently waited for my turn, something made far easier with the wooden boards that made up the floor and their fire enchantments spewing heat.
In due time all the cargo, myself included, was brought aboard. Hentor had apparently long since arrived below deck, too afraid of any delay to his arrival. When I sat in the chair of my impromptu office, I felt a pull of motion come over my body. Opening the curtains revealed the water-facing stone slab had been pulled back and we were pulling out of the harbor with the front-facing water boosters. It occurred to me then that we would need to get some pulley system designed by Eli or one of our architects, instead of relying on a stone mage to open the pier gate. When we stopped and I felt a pull backward, I let the cloth drapes fall. The next few hours were spent in the captains' quarters, twiddling my thumbs. Paperwork was urgent, but I knew I'd be too nervous to do it on the trip.
"Lady?" A voice called.
I pulled myself up, getting out of the staring contest with my desk that I had slipped into. Ahead was one of the sailors 'only' clad in a steel breastplate and shin guards.
"There's some fort in the harbor. Flagged us down to stop and identify ourselves. Kantor is showing them the prisoners, but he thought you should know."
I nodded. Getting up, I looked for any creases or smirches on the green or blue of my clothes. The dress thus far had survived unscathed, but it took only one wrong move out of the door to ruin it. Satisfied, I abandoned my desk. Even as I approached the doorway, I could see one of the red-haired humans leaning over. When I came out onto the deck, my gaze immediately went to a huge, rectangular fort in the water directly in front of the ship.
Grey sky still chocked the sun, but there was still enough light to allow the guards manning the wall to see a tattoo in the form of a red crab on the pirate captain's shoulder, the shirt of which Kantor was pulling down.
"Oh!" One of the men on top of the wall yelled. "Then… Your ship only. Pull into one of the center docks."
Kantor nodded, handing off the prisoner to guards behind him. He then moved to come up beside me as another shadow. I was too busy taking in the city ahead. Along the left of the half-moon harbor was a wide array of warehouses in front of a harbor filled with ships. Near the center was a large three-story mansion with grey stone for a body and a tower out of the top. Between it and the warehouses were rather fantastical-looking stores, their front consisting of wide windowpanes placed in iron edges where stone arches or pillars didn't support the floor above.
They matched the tower in the distant left, a square shaft of metal and glass a bit too far for me to make the details out of. I spared only a glance for the right side, where the military shipyard and mages quarter resided. Near the front of the harbor were specks of mana, though it wilted to almost nothing further along the main road leading into what I assumed to be the city center. However, as we approached an empty dock near the big mansion on nothing but wind power, a squad of their red-leathered guards came out from between a hull near completion.
'I'll see to it,' Kantor told me in a spirit connection as he moved past me.
A simple nod and the men holding the rather irate pirate came up behind him. When the ship finally got into place with a pier on the right, the sailors placed a wide plank down for offboarding. Red-leathered men came up to the group as they left the ship. Kantor walked forward and seemed to be talking with them. I couldn't hear from this distance and was content to remain in ignorance.
The prisoner was handed off to the humans while our people came back to the ship. As Kantor came up the plank, the mana around him started getting sucked towards the water. In the bay further to the right, a big shaft of sea shot into the air. I couldn't see what was doing it until a big black otter came out of the tip of the spout. It seemed to glide in the air before landing back in the bay with a splash.
After a few minutes of looking over the waves, the creature never surfaced. Before I could turn my eyes back to the city, a loud whoosh of air filled my ears before I was drawn to a hard plunk on the pier. An air mage, if the way the wind was still whirling around her was anything to go by, stood just beyond our plank. A younger thing with black pigtails, her blue eyes surveyed us with curiosity. Brown and green leather armor covered her body though she rubbed her smooth cheekbones with her right hand in idle thought and scrunched her stubby chin in a very unprofessional manner.
"I'm Harrah." She addressed the crowd. "Princess Palta should be down shortly, but I was permitted to run ahead. Something about you capturing a lot of pirates."
Not the most official welcome, but I wasn't going to start things off by acting aggrieved.
"Mostly high ranking ones at that, Harrah." I called back over the crowd. Her eyes lingered on me for a moment, either measuring me or taking in my robes. Those blue pools then looked out over the ocean towards our second ship. "Two ships of prisoners? I didn't know the pirates had enough power after the battle to give that many prisoners."
"A quarter of one. The rest are supplies." I offered as I stepped forward onto the plank. Her black eyebrows went up.
"I didn't think you guys had much to give. At least not for free."
"We are picking up the Messineen but these days the burden of refugees is not a light one, if indeed it ever is. These goods are compensation for the weight placed on you." I motioned towards the men coming up the stairs of our ship with crates and sacks in hand.
A splash from the left drew everyone's eyes. It was the otter again, only this time the gush of water pushed it up to the lip of the pier. I was a bit taken aback at the size of the creature, being closer to a horse than a cat. Several passing peasants pulled back at the huge otter's breach onto land. Save one.
A woman with shoulder-length black hair strode forward in an equally black dress, set with a necklace of sapphires around the neck. Around her were several intimidating guards, dressed in steel and sporting helmets shaped into a lion's head. Fine golden cloth was weaved on their arms and back, accentuating the embroidered metal beneath.
The woman had her thin nose flaring as she looked at the monster and rubbed her equally sharp chin. Green eyes suddenly went wide, her gaze flitting to us for but a moment. After a moment of staring at the creature, she straightened up and turned towards our pier. The guards moved up behind her as the Keltons bringing the goods on land stuck to a single file on the left. She moved with perfect posture, shoulders straight and head level until she arrived at our plank with the slightest nod I had ever seen.
"Greetings, esteemed guests." The woman announced like she was preparing a great speech. "I am Palta. Firstborn of King Jeremy, Daughter of the Advisor and current Co-Queen of the Rodring Kingdom; Nestel. It must have been a long voyage here and a meal can soothe such aches. It is short notice, but I can attest to our royal chefs' ability to rise to the occasion."
Every human around her, including her guard, looked askance at such formality. It occurred to me that she must know how strong we really are. I couldn't say how she knew, but her tight eyes said she did.
"Sadly, time, like too many things these days, is in short supply." I kindly refused, the roughness of my voice now sounding very pronounced. Sadly, short of punching my throat in just the right way, there was nothing for it. "I will have to get the Messineen refugees back to their hold and part of that is introducing them to a trusted member of their clan."
"Their hold? You mean the one the pirates took up north?" Harrah asked with a raised eyebrow. The humans all had a moment of skepticism, save for the princess.
"Yes," I affirmed as I moved forward and down the plank. "This city is quite impressive. I'm sure the refugees will be loathe to leave but their home needs them for the rebuilding."
Palta did another of those impossibly minute nods.
"I'm afraid their location is in a settlement connected to this one. Their ships, however, won't… or rather can't leave. The trip here destroyed their hulls and the remains were carried out to sea."
I gave a small sigh. Turning around towards the left of the city, I strained my neck to see the walled-off path leading out over the stone fields towards three towers, one almost impossibly high and two others shorter yet wider, surrounded by a wall three floors high.
"That very one," Palta said in a warm tone. "I know the man in charge of the place if you would like a quick introduction."
I smiled with a look back at the princess.
"Your people's generosity would shame all others. If we meet again, I will see the favor returned. Though, that does look like too long a walk for two hundred people. I assume he has a harbor."
Palta bit her pink lips, her green eyes looking towards Eli's domain.
"Possibly. The pirates hit us a few days past and I haven't kept up on his repairs. Harrah, fly ahead and tell the plant mage Tilvor he has more Kelton guests coming."
Her gaze moved to the friend on her left. There was clearly a spirit conversation going on if the inquisitive face Harrah wore was any indication. Eventually, the air mage went wide-eyed and a little pale, looking at the men dropping off goods further down the pier before nodding to the member of royalty. That was when the next load of cargo included prisoners. Men in rough clothes that still had the occasional flare of color here and there trudged down the plank with their hands tied. Harrah went further to the edge of the pier before constructing a large air spell and taking off in a blast of wind.
"May you live well," I offered the princess with a polite nod.
"Likewise," She accepted before turning away.
Sailors who finished their toil waited on the side for me to go up the plank, which I did with a bit more speed than I had gone down it despite the incline. When I made it up to the deck and moved to the side to get one last leisurely view of the city, the first thing I saw was Palta on the pier, still inspecting the ship with a certain intensity. A faint feeling of irritation came over me. I couldn't see how she was aware of how dangerous we really were, but those green eyes showed a mix of worry and determination that left no doubt as to what she thought of the departing ship.
When the last man came aboard, the plank was raised, and sails were unfurled. A blast of water from the front of the ship made a few of the humans on the pier jump back, but the princess was unperturbed. Clear of the wooden finger in the ocean, our ship pulled away to sail past the fort in the sea. Our sister on the sea quickly followed behind.
I stood still on the side of the ship, taking in the salty sea air and chill of winter while the men prepared the boat on the side in case no pier was available. The rock-strewn coast moved by with the wall sporting the occasional archer blocking my view of the land proper. We couldn't get too close, lest the ship suffer the same fate as the refugee's transportation, yet that didn't stop the huge tower from looming over us as we passed it. Nearing a bend, we arrived at what I assumed to be the harbor.
The whole thing looked like a single slab of grey stone in front of a portcullis in the wall. No single flight of stairs could be seen between the entrance to the settlement and the single pier of stone in the bay, instead, three steps were made with long spaces between the next set with only a few spots having a smooth ascending curve for carts. Attention was also paid to the opposite side of the harbor, with a floor of stone going from the soil into the water acting as an intrusion into the woods beyond.
'Not a single spot to hide from arrows. The walls seem to be stuffed with ballistae and catapults.' Kantor mused in a spirit connection on my left. 'I almost feel bad for the poor souls that tried to take it.'
A simple nod was all I could give him. Eli was close now. My stomach was fluttering with a rising need in the blood. After all this time, my husband would finally be by my side again.
It was another long procedure of guards coming to see who just pulled into their pier, us dropping a plank down, and Kantor going to explain. Only this time Hentor came from below to accompany him. Minutes took on the aspect of hours as my 'father' seemed to be taking a slow stroll following the humans back to the gate. The years spent on the ship waiting for them to return seemed to stretch into decades as my fingers strummed the cold guardrail with patience that thinned by the second.
When the red leather of the human guard showed up beneath the harbor gate, I did my best not to let my eagerness show, but my left foot wouldn't listen as it tapped on the floor. Then Eli finally pulled in front. He had grey hair and green eyes now, though everything else was the same as always, down to the preference for white shirts and brown pants. The same walk, the same analytical look at the ship, the same sense of safety when I knew he was near.
It was an odd feeling. Being a mage and constantly surrounded by guards, I couldn't say I ever felt like I was in danger. That didn't stop some new sense of protection coming over me. Eli was in eyesight, and my heart said all was good and right in the world. As he walked towards the ship, I had to keep myself from dashing down the plank and throwing myself into his arms.
"What I assume to be your courier came by with a proposal for some supplies," Eli called over to us, trying to find the leader of the group as he came onto the pier.
"Yes." I offered with a small smile. "Though the exchange would be our supplies for the refugees. That was our first proposal. Princess Palta said there was a plant mage here."
Eli walked up to the plank on the stone pier with arms crossed.
"Well, here he is."
"Excellent." I declared with a nod. "We are interested in some crop-growing enchantments. Not as a matter of charity. Our magical elements could provide you with some utility. If they are not to your liking, we could work out something else."
His strong chin curled as he considered it. The quad mage was getting better about walking around without face coverings. I knew him well enough that I could see his indications of discomfort, but it wasn't the obvious wincing it had been in times past.
"They'll have to be on square plates of wood. Unless I visit your abode, I can't make them fit exactly wherever you're putting them. And I mean no offense to you and yours, but a long trip under your care isn't something I'm up for. You seem like a fine lot, but these days aren't kind to trusting souls."
I bit my lips in concentration. We were getting some time alone, what the rest of the world wanted or demanded would just have to for its turn.
"It will be a long time before the refugees will be ready," I casually offered with a strum of my fingers on the icy wood. "And I know our farms well enough. Instead of trusting us, perhaps I should take the leap?"
He raised an eyebrow at the proposal. His grey hair turned as he went back and forth for a moment before nodding.
"I have a private house. A number of planks and some water for refreshments. I'll warn you, getting the dimensions just right will require a lot of sweat and struggle. We could be there for an hour or more."
"Yes." I proclaimed, understanding his proposal in all its meanings. The guards tensed at that, on both sides. Though, mine never raised their shoulders, instead trying to give an irritated face that I was sure any human wouldn't take for a counterfeit.
My walk down the plank was flanked by steel-clad Keltons. It took self-control not to make it a sprint, and more still when my hand instinctively wanted to thread through his arm. We walked side-by-side, moving towards the gate as all watched.
"Tilvor," I asked politely with a turn to my husband-turned-stranger. "My voice is getting a bit tired with all this shouting from boats. Could we talk in a spirit connection?"
"Sure."
It was the fastest connection I had ever made.
'Spirits Eli, it's wonderful seeing you again.' I said into his mind.
'Not as much as seeing you. God, it's awful not waking up with you and Gula anymore.'
A small smile stole over my face. I was just grateful that my goat-like face made it hard for onlookers to notice a wife's blush under the fur.
'It's no small thing for a woman to wake up without her hunk of warm marble either. Rock can still change, though. You do seem to be getting better at walking around without a mask.'
His sigh filled my mind.
'Palta was the leader of the scion squad the Rodring Kingdom was going to send after me. It wouldn't be an immediate association, but constantly wearing a face cover is too unique a thing to risk. On the coldest days, I at least have a good excuse to wear one.'
We made a turn at the gate and walked into an open field of stone. The endless floor of smooth stone told me we were inside somewhere, yet the open sky above reminded me that we were outdoors. I noticed bits of blood along the wall testifying to the battle that had occurred here.
'Taking out the pirate hold in the north was a bloodless affair. On our side at least.' I mused.
'Good. We can't afford any casualties.' Eli mused as the huge tower loomed closer.
Along its sides, I could see the other two towers further beyond. Neither had any armaments nor was the one on the right sporting a gate in its arch. The constant scurrying of workers in front of it and the field of stone summoning boards to my left gave the air here an excited energy, even with winter stealing any warmth to be found.
'The refugees have been taking up a barracks and any space inside the one living complex I made. We've made great progress with their labor in setting up another. Seeing as how they're only going to be staying here temporarily, I hope to have a nice place to set up for any interested parties looking to stay in my little corner of the world once they move out.'
'How has that been coming along? I can't imagine too many people would take a wild chance on a mage from seemingly nowhere.'
A soft groan came through the connection.
'I've seen democracies at the endpoint of the mobs' justice. Monarchies descend into the worst forms of nepotistic incompetence. Military dictatorships in the midst of inter-factional gang wars operating on the budget of nations. One of them had to be worse than this, but I couldn't recall any off the top of my head.
They don't even have a census, forget a steady civil government. Infrastructure, what little Crasden has, is almost entirely on the port and sucking out the mana. Everything else is a guessing game between the guard and harbormaster. Just doing the bare minimum in terms of sewage management and civil planning will be more than anything they've ever seen.'
Those words were very important. As the leader of the revived Kreshton clan, such matters were of vital importance to the wider conflict engulfing the region. A conflict that had already claimed hundreds of lives just in the short while we had been here. Which made it all the more tragic that I didn't care. My husband had been gone for far too long and our reunion didn't involve the fusing of lips or ripping of underwear that it should.
'Eli… has your manhood been… reconstituted?' I asked in a blunt tone as we approached a long rectangular stone home with a smooth half-oval roof and a door, in front of which was a floor of wood. Given our trajectory and the extra guardhouse on the right of the wooden slab, I didn't bother asking where our destination was.
'No,' My husband replied without a single change in his demeanor. 'I could heal it, then simply cut it off afterward if you're in the mood.'
I stopped to look at him for a moment, which he returned with a raised eyebrow.
He was my husband. Yet he had lived a span of time my mind couldn't hope to fully comprehend. A fact that was often forgotten amidst cuddles and kisses. Which only made it more jarring when that thing, that part of him that had used and replaced bodies with the commitment one had to a pair of clothes, suddenly reasserted itself.
It wasn't human. I was even inclined to say it was nothing of the living, but it was in him all the same. I could deal with it. Such a feat typically required some time for mental preparation, more than the amount given with an off-handed offer of self-mutilation delivered like a casual discussion of the evening meal.
Looking into those green pools, I felt my moment of disturbance ease. Whatever was in there, it shared space with love. A genuine love for me and Gula that he had risked his life for.
Speaking of my sister-wife.
'No, that won't be needed.' I refused with a continued walk forward. Something Eli moved to match as the sound of a river began asserting itself. Even with the spot of trouble, my blood was still hot. 'Though… if you do want to fully enjoy our reunion, perhaps there is something we could do.'
'Oh?' He asked as we moved past the squat guardhouse.
It took a moment to respond as I realized that the house was surrounded by a river, something I recovered from as we moved over what I now knew to be a drawbridge.
'Gula mentioned something about her first time with you. Something I've been wondering about.' I asked as we crossed the bridge, suddenly feeling like a girl asking for her first kiss.
The door came into arms reach, but Eli stopped just in front of it.
'Oh. Something I haven't done for you yet, I assume.' he asked, sounding rather pleased with himself in a voice soaked with confidence and a small hint of glee.
My curiosity was now almost as strong as my lust.
'I believe we both agree on what we're discussing.' I offered as I went into the house, my guards stopping with a hand wave at the edge of the drawbridge. A nod from Eli made the humans do the same.
'Salamede, action is the most persuasive speech. Perhaps a convincing start to these negotiations is in order.'
He closed the door behind him with a meaningful look to the door on my left. I nodded, moving to what I assumed to be his bedroom. There were a lot of precautions that needed to be taken. Air deadening spells deployed, inspections for spies and wind tunnels, and any number of other details. My blood and mind, however, were demanding answers as to why Gula had been so focused on that one act in her retelling. Answers laying just beyond the door whose handle I yanked open.
Weekly Power Status
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Ranking 
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