Nothing is better than to be at open sea, especially in this part of the world. Smooth sailing, clear water, and easy targets. Reason for that is because the Champion of Solton, Sanna, had banned engine-propelled ships in her waters and those within a certain radius of her waters.
She claimed it was an environmental decision and that it was to protect the wildlife from commercial fisherman and to prevent oil rigs from being set up, to save the seabed and the aquatic mammals that lingered too close to the surface, but in reality, it gave her the authority to seize ships: to cripple pirates and rogue merchants. Merchants that would otherwise support the black market trade of the Hyrcanians, and therefore the ravagers.
Of course, she gave passes to “verified” ships. Verification, for most ships, meant bribery. For other ships, like ours, verification came directly from Sanna herself. We pay by carrying out missions of maritime interdiction. Often, that just meant boarding merchant vessels and seizing cargo whenever the buoys marked an unverified ship. Paid the bills and kept us ready for action until we land a bigger contract.
The contracts come in through messenger pigeons, which may seem slow and inefficient in an age of instant communication, but digital communication lacked security and privacy - something our clientele require.
Speaking of which -
The door opens without a knock, which means only one person.
Hello, Maria Aquilia says with a great big smile. I have news for you and I’m sure you will be pleased.
Why don’t you ever knock?
She shrugs, sets the letter she had in her hand down on my desk, and then sits on the couch off to the side. Effectively, it was her couch, as she was the only one that sat there.
I read the letter and I say, aren’t so fortunate?
Shhhhh, please let me sleep. We’ll discuss it in when I wake up.
***
Days later we arrive in Solton.
A majestic city, made of sandstone and marble that anyone can traverse entirely on foot. Takes a few hours, but still. Of course, one can drive a car or a motorcycle, or take the underground subway system, or use the canal system, or even ride in a wagon pulled by ahauths, which are large, four-legged creatures with fiery-blonde manes with the rest of their body covered with chestnut hair. Horses, as some other cultures call them.
Achi and I sit across from each other at a tavern close to the port. Outside, enjoying the weather, the peace. Me with my elixir and him with his beer. There’s been a pause in the conversation. But then, he sniffs and coughs.
So I look at him and ask if he’s taking the usuals, the ones that go with him to Pyraton because they think the city is too uptight.
Yeah. See ya in a week or two. Before I go, I been meanin to ask somethin.
Yeah?
Think there’ll be a time when you retire? I’m old, gettin there anyway, can’t move as well as I use to. Can’t imagine you doin anythin else, but me? Got maybe a year, maybe two left. After that, I’m goin home. See my wife, see if my son has a son yet.
I nod. Remember The Dreaded?
The ship the Hyrcas sunk?
Yeah, I was the sole survivor.
Don’t tell me. You aimin to get revenge?
And he sees the look on my face.
You’re crazy I tell ya. Absolutely crazy. How do you aim to do that?
Well, that’s partly why we’re here. Didn’t you hear the Champion of Solton been spurned by the Regime?
And you think she’ll help?
She has no other choice.
What makes you say that?
Well, look around. What do you see?
He looks around, and so do I. It’s not that there is presence, but that there is absence. But I keep that to myself.
Not a thing I see is new. He looks at my face, sees my smug reaction. Tell me, oh wise sir, tell me what’s missing, oh all-knowing one.
Hate it when he does that. I shake my head. You see, Sanna and Lord Byron had a deal. She would send a handful of ships over to the Bay of Thieves, to help blockade a rebellious contingent of Thunderers and The Masked. In return, Byron, my bad, Lord Byron, would send a detachment of royal guardsmen for the Solton Championships. She sent the ships and Byron never sent the guardsmen. The tournament is in a week.
And they’re not here. And they should be here? He sees me nod and continues on. When did you find out that out? Must’ve been a couple days before that nasty business with the ravagers.
No. Actually, found out on our way over here. Knew about the deal days before, yeah. But it wasn’t confirmed that they didn’t show. Lord Byron is a man of his word, so something happened. Haven’t heard why. Either way, it’s good for us.
Always with the ulterior motive. Achi laughs. Should’ve known. Thought you might’ve wanted to get under her dress. Next you’re telling me that you volunteered our crew to be security.
Not quite. I don’t think we would do well.
You’re right, we wouldn’t.
But I did arrange for security, as a measure of goodwill. Sanna knows the security, but she doesn’t know my grand scheme.
And when will you tell her that?
When the time is right.
Ahhh, makes sense. He finishes his drink, clanging his mug on the table. He stands. Well, send a pidge when you need me. I’ll be off to Pyraton with the wild ones.
***
I see Drakon standing at the end of the pier, fishing. A tall, lanky man with refined tastes and a silver tongue. He’s the only one that wears formal wear out at sea. Difference is instead of a suit jacket, it’s usually a long fisherman’s coat. Mantle. Whatever it’s called. It’s black, ragged, and covers his arms and goes down to just below his knees. It’s the only thing that suggests he’s tough, gritty, and a bit of renegade. Half of the time, it’s off and he has his sleeves rolled up. He’s in charge of the Raptor Squadron.
What can I do for you? He asks without turning his head to see it was me.
I’ve got a special job for you.
Need to me sit at tea with the old ladies? He pauses, as if waiting for me to respond. I don’t, so he continues. How wonderful!
Not quite old ladies, but it’s right up your alley. A dinner with Sanna’s Admiral. He’s got a job for us and I want you to get the most we can out of him.
Dinner with Florian? The Lion of Solton. The Golden Knight. The Hero of Claude’s War. And you expect me to haggle with a living legend?
I don’t think you’d need flatter him so much. Hear he makes an absolute fool of those who try. But, yes, you will.
Think I am one? Pfft. But what is it that you’d need from him?
His fleet.
What?