Fortress Al-Mir

Arkk watched Nora soar overhead. The harpy drifted in wide circles, swooping over the open ocean.

He had already searched using the crystal ball, scanning the ocean for leagues out into the waters. There was no sign of the attacking ships. One moment, they were there. The next, they weren’t. As soon as the lead ship was destroyed, the others simply vanished.

It had Arkk unnerved. He hoped it was nothing more than stealth magic, hiding the ships. The alternative was that these new allies of Evestani had magic that could instantaneously move entire warships. Out on the seas, they couldn’t have any kind of ritual circle like what he used. The water was too… fluid. It shifted and moved. The teleportation rituals relied on relative coordinates to teleport anything above them out to a matching circle—which would be generated on first use. It couldn’t be inscribed on the water.

At the same time, he wanted that technology. His ritual circles cost massive amounts of magic if they were drawn any larger than an average horse-drawn cart, to the point where none of his employees would be able to activate them if they were too large. Combined with their relatively short range, they were far too limiting when trying to move something large a decent distance. The repeated activations were just as draining as a large circle making mass movements also infeasible.

Yet if their new enemy could move something that large far enough that he couldn’t find it…

If he could do that…

Nora swooped down, spreading her wings wide just in time to slow herself before she crashed into the docks. Her talons bit into the wood, holding her steady as she swept her head back and forth. The emerald green feathers that cascaded down the back of her head bobbed with the movement.

“Anything?” Arkk asked. There hadn’t been any fog in the crystal ball like what Evestani used to hide their movements, but he had still sent her out to try to find anything she could.

Unfortunately, the harpy shook her head again, this time in a far more negative motion. “I circled wide like you asked. Nothing out there that looks like a warship. A few fishing boats…”

Perhaps those ships might have somehow disguised themselves as smaller vessels, but… it seemed unlikely.

As he was debating sending Nora back out, expanding the search area even further this time, Zharja slithered up to the docks. Gorgon, snakelike as they were, were quite adept at moving through water. Zharja especially. After the golden knight had ripped off a portion of her tail, Hale had regrown it better than ever. It was thick, with powerful muscles coiled under the hardy metallic scales, and even sported a small barb that produced the same caustic venom that gorgon could spit.

The water dripped off her scales, reflecting the sunlight in a dazzling array of colors beyond which her normally iridescent scales would produce. Her presence caused an uncomfortable stir among the men Katja had left on the docks. Even the burly Horrik stilled a moment before barking out an order to carry on retrofitting one of the fishing vessels.

Arkk paid them little mind, far more focused on the splintered plank of wood she held in her arms.

Long lines in the charred wood carved out a pattern. It wasn’t scorch marks from a fire—the lead ship hadn’t collapsed into a fire as far as he had seen—but precise patterns of pyrography that formed a partial ritual circle. From the small sample Zharja held, he could see some kind of spatial element, but not enough to tell its intended function.

“Were there others?” Arkk asked, looking up to Zharja’s eyes.

“Yess,” she hissed, making Arkk smile. “The otherss are hauling them, along with two ssurvivorss.”

“Survivors?” Arkk asked, surprise overriding his curiosity over the potential ritual circle. “From the warship or one of the sunken fishing vessels?”

The attackers had taken out a few fishing boats during their attack. Nothing out in the ocean at large, as far as he had been able to tell. Which likely meant they had teleported in just as they teleported out.

“Warsshipss… I think,” Zharja said, though she didn’t sound completely certain. “We only ssearched around the sshards of the sship.”

That was almost unbelievable. He had seen the warship’s destruction. It crumped as easily as he might crumple a piece of paper, exploding out into splinters of wood and shards of metal. Arkk was surprised there was an intact plank as long as the one Zharja had. For a person to have survived that… And two, no less? They must have jumped overboard just before that spell hit their ship.

Arkk looked over, watching Horrik for a moment. The man was ushering a few others up a narrow gangplank to the fishing ship. The two on their way up looked like academy initiates. Probably here to scrawl out some ritual circles under the direction of someone a little more knowledgeable. At least, Arkk hoped there was someone more knowledgeable than a bunch of bandits and initiates at the helm.

“Head back out there,” Arkk said, looking back to Zharja. “Have them bring the survivors around to the slum side of the harbor. Bring them to the teleportation circle near the Primrose. Get the survivors to Savren and any intact ritual circle planks to Zullie. Try not to be seen on the way.” He paused a moment, thought about it, then added in a bare whisper, “You may petrify anyone in the way as long as you restore them to normal as soon as the survivors are out of sight.”

Zharja dipped her head in an acknowledging nod. She turned around and, after a twisting wiggle of her tail, dove back into the water off the side of the docks.

Savren would dig into their minds. He would find out who the warships belonged to and what they were after. Maybe even why they had allied with Evestani, Evestani’s plan going forward, and any other surprise attacks they might unleash. Zullie, meanwhile, would dig into that ritual circle and figure out what it was. Arkk hoped it was their teleportation spell. He hoped that the warship was the lower end of its teleportation capabilities.

He was a little worried that he was dumping a bit too much on Zullie’s shoulders. She was juggling a dozen hats at the moment. Some related to each other, like counter-demon magics and her investigations into magic that stemmed from Xel’atriss, Lock and Key. Others were a somewhat lower priority but no less important, like reconfiguring the portal to make use of the keystone Sylvara brought. They needed to figure out how to properly investigate other domains to come up with a proper countermeasure for the Heart of Gold’s avatar.

Preferably before Evestani’s forward march reached Elmshadow.

He was fortifying Elmshadow as best he could. Stemming from the Walking Fortress, he had sent dozens upon dozens of the lesser servants out and around, claiming both underground territory and land on the surface for the tower. The entirety of Elmshadow was under his direct control at this point, along with much of the farmlands that stretched out through the valley between the Elm mountains. He couldn’t claim the entire mountain ranges, but he could claim enough of it that it would be impossible to surprise him even if they used some spell that could transport their entire army the same way they teleported those warships.

And, even if they did teleport their entire army into his territory, he owned it. He could simply teleport an alchemical explosive directly into the middle of their army. No need to endanger his men at all.

“Nora,” he said, looking back to the harpy. “Take to the skies again, this time focus on scouting out the Prince’s forces. Just do a few passes overhead, and see how they’re recovering and moving. And… if you spot anything strange, report back to me without delay.”

“Going, going,” Nora said, spreading her wings wide.

Arkk pulled out his crystal ball, trying to focus on Katja.

Unfortunately, the image within simply turned blank. It was a similar problem as he once had scrying on Inquisitor Vrox. He couldn’t even look at the army that was lined up outside the city. When the attack had hit the armored carriage, some of its defenses must have activated. The crystal ball couldn’t get anywhere near close enough to it to see what was going on. All he could tell was that they were working with the city guard to try to help people who had been caught in the landslide the attacking ships had caused.

He wanted to go up there and get eyes on the Prince. But the Prince was with Hawkwood. If the latter saw him, he would likely have to inform the Prince of who he was.

That… could end terribly if Prince Cedric didn’t take kindly to Arkk’s presence.

All he could do was sit back and rely on a former bandit lord to carry out her duty to perfection.

“Quite the welcome we’ve received.”

Katja’s smile was the smile of a liar. Perfectly posed and without a hint of strain. “I’m relieved to see you made it through without harm,” she lied.

The assassination failed. Her efforts in locking out the Prince during the attack had been a waste. She had been careful. There should be no evidence outside her mind beyond the fact that she had given the order. That should be dismissible by claiming she hadn’t known that the Prince was on the path to the city. It might harm her carefully cultivated facade of competence, but hopefully, she could make up for that in other ways.

“You arrived at a most tumultuous time,” Katja continued.

Prince Cedric Valorian Lafoar stood before her, tall and imposing in armor that lacked ornamentation. Rather, it looked like he just got off the battlefield. His surcoat had stains. Blood, probably, though they were old enough to have dried to a crusty blackish brown. The hauberk poking out underneath had dented and bent rings of metal, undoubtedly from an enemy’s weapon.

He had been traveling, so perhaps it should be expected that his gear wouldn’t be in pristine shape. His goatee and slicked-back hair were neatly trimmed but not any more so than a random peasant who took care of themselves. Katja had a slight suspicion that he wasn’t the actual prince, just a stand-in to protect against potential harm.

But there wasn’t anything Katja could do about it now. She had tried to get rid of him in a way that would implicate neither her nor Arkk. That had failed. Now she had to cozy up and figure out what he wanted.

He hadn’t ordered her immediate beheading, which was a positive.

“Give me a timeline of today’s events,” the Prince said, looking about the garrison.

They had hustled inside, moving the entire convoy just beyond the city gate in under thirty minutes. The protective magic over the city was active once again, though there was no obvious threat on the horizon. Katja simply felt it was prudent to show her proactivity.

“The enemy warships appeared in the harbor approximately one and a half hours ago,” Katja said, bowing before giving her report. The book on etiquette she had uncovered in the manor offered her a few tips on meeting a noble of higher standing. It was an old book, but one that hopefully wasn’t considered too outdated. “Witness reports state that they simply sailed into the harbor. I have men interviewing residents of the harbor and fishing crews who might have seen more as we speak.

“They opened fire immediately, using cannon-based alchemical bombardment to assail the city. Garrison drills paid off in a hasty activation of the counter-bombardment ritual. With assistance from a few inquisitors, they managed to hold out until I could organize a defense using the dock-mounted cannons—”

“You organized the defense?” Prince Cedric cut in, still not looking in her direction. His attentions were focused across the garrison courtyard where some of his men were hastily repairing the mostly superficial damage to his armored carriage. The two manticores loomed over the work almost like they were about to pounce on the carriage.

Katja shuddered, wondering exactly how tame they were. Manticores were dangerous. Easily on the level of gorgon if not greater. They weren’t known to be particularly friendly to other species.

“While the garrison ran regular drills to ensure they could defend from bombardment magic and return attacks against anything approaching by land, they neglected drills operating the defenses from sea-based attacks. My… former profession gave me a certain level of competence in defending a fortification.”

Prince Cedric’s gaze swiveled toward Katja. He didn’t speak, simply choosing to watch her with an intense, scrutinizing gaze.

Lightly clearing her throat, Katja continued, “We were able to mount something resembling a defense, even causing significant damage to one of their ships. They were in the process of fleeing when word arrived that your convoy reached my gates.”

“Your gates, are they?”

Katja hid her grimace with a deep bow. “Your Highness,” Katja said, carefully raising her head just as that old book of etiquette said she should. “It is with immense honor and jubilation that I bid you welcome to the City of Cliff. I apologize for the delay in formally welcoming you here. This city is yours—as are its gates—and I am at your service during your sojourn. May your time herein be as agreeable as it is distinguished.”

The Prince’s eyebrows slid up his brow ever so slightly. “A line ripped from the pages of The Booke of Courtesie. Author unknown. Written approximately five hundred years ago.”

Katja suppressed another wince. Outdated might have been an understatement.

“You are Lady Katja, former bandit turned… regent of Cliff,” he said, voice carrying a weight that would have silenced the entire garrison in a less stressful situation. “Your rise to power has been meteoric, to say the least.”

Regent. Was it good that he named her that? It almost sounded like an official title. Which was probably a good sign. Unfortunately, a regent was typically a temporary position.

Katja decided to focus on the positives. It was almost an official title, one that implied he was perhaps not upset with her in a way that would get her the same treatment the Count of Vaales received during his rebellion. First, before anything else, she had to ensure that she kept her head firmly attached to her shoulders. Only then could she grasp for every scrap of power she could get from the situation.

“The war displaced me along with many others,” Katja said, attempting to keep a neutral tone of voice. “That has a certain way of granting perspective that I lacked before.”

“Did it? Or did it simply provide new opportunities? If what has crossed my desk is true, you were well on your way to owning Moonshine Burg before the war interrupted your progress. And now, you’ve somehow managed to find a new seat of power to occupy.”

Katja very much wished he hadn’t known anything about Moonshine Burg. How had he found that out anyway? The entire burg fell in the opening act of the war. Had Arkk evacuated people from there who managed to send a report to the Prince?

Before she could come up with anything to say in response, another man hurried across the courtyard. Though she had never met him in person, the graying hair, hardy beard, and—most importantly—the white surcoat with a black chevron identified him as Hawkwood, commander of White Company.

“Sire,” Hawkwood said with a deep bow, far deeper than the one Katja had offered.

The Prince took his piercing gaze off Katja, looking to the letter held in Hawkwood’s hands.

“I just received a missive via Swiftwing from Arkk—”

“Ah yes. The other of the problems in this territory. Why am I not surprised that I am already hearing his name.”

“It likely relates to the warships in the harbor,” Hawkwood said, slowly righting himself. “According to this, Evestani has begun marching across the Duchy—Mystakeen. This time, accompanied by soldiers from the Eternal Empire.”

“Numbers?” Prince Cedric asked without a hint of surprise in his voice. “Unit makeup?”

“I…” Hawkwood slowly shook his head, looking at the letter for a moment. “He didn’t say.”

“Useless,” he said, again without any surprise in his tone. Nor anger, for that matter. It was as if he simply expected a useless response and was confirming to himself that it was, indeed, useless. “I presume Elmshadow is still under Al-Mir’s control?”

“Unless Arkk has relocated his walking tower without informing me, yes.”

“How would you rate his odds at withstanding an Evestani counterattack?”

Hawkwood fell silent for a moment, considering. “Arkk has powerful magic and employees at his disposal. I would say the odds favor him. Except Evestani is aware of many of his tricks. If I were in Evestani’s commander’s position, I would ensure I could handle Arkk’s magic before attacking again. The Eternal Empire’s presence additionally complicates things. I don’t know much about them.”

“I see. Send a return harpy immediately, find out everything he knows about the approaching force.”

Hawkwood shifted a moment then nodded his head. “I’ll do what I can.”

“As for you, Lady Katja,” Prince Cedric said, turning back to her. “The fact that you read The Booke of Courtesie tells me much of your intentions. Bend the knee, kiss the ring, and hope for the best, is it?”

Katja pressed her lips together. She wouldn’t have phrased it that way—it was a bit too degrading—but there wasn’t much point in denying it. Perhaps if she saw another opportunity for a plausible assassination, her plans would change. For now… “I am prepared to render whatever assistance I can in reclaiming full control of Mystakeen in the name of the Greater Kingdom of Chernlock.”

“Very well. Make your attempt. I will be the judge of its worthiness. You may begin by arranging a meeting with all notable personnel in the city.”

“Many military, civil, and economic advisors are housed at or around my… the manor. We’ll be able to organize things from there. I can arrange for a carriage if yours is too damaged to make the journey?”

Prince Cedric turned away. He brought his fingers to his lips and unleashed a sharp whistle.

One of the manticores bounded over, its lion-like head snarling at a poor guard who had already been walking in the way. Its snake-like tail lowered to the ground, providing a place for the Prince to step. Hauling himself onto its back with far more dignity than Katja would have been able to muster, the Prince turned to her.

“I will meet you there,” he said.

As soon as he finished speaking, the bat wings of the manticore spread wide, carrying him up into the skies.

Katja glared after him for a long moment before deciding that keeping him waiting for even a minute longer than necessary was a bad idea.