The Halfblood King: Book 1 of the Chronicles of Aertu (20 page)

“Yes, Sir,” Lim replied, “we came up through the ranks together.”

“What I have for you, Lim, is a bit more difficult than what Haldor is tasked with, because it has never been done.”  He waited for the acknowledgement in his friend’s eyes before continuing.  “I need for you to establish the first Thallasian diplomatic corps.”

“The first what?”  Lim asked, in astonishment.  “We’re Thallasia; we have no diplomats.”

“Exactly my point and we need to get some quickly.  Your first recruit is in the next room.”

“Captain Baruk, you mean?  He has a stellar record up to this point, but he just lost three ships and ninety men this morning.”

“Yes, men were lost,” Kor replied, “but his decision was sound and his quick thinking saved his own life, at least.  Choking a thrule with his sword, ha!, that was some quick thinking.  He will be a liability if we leave him knocking about the city without a command, once the loss of his crew sinks in.  I don’t want him anywhere near the harbor tonight, Lim.  He’s likely to try something stupid if he sees that ship again.” 

“I agree with you there, Kor.  So, where are we sending our new diplomat?”

“We will send ships to Chu, Coptia and Castia, under the flag of truce, once we know more about this new threat.  Those will be a relatively fast run, so you will have ample time to pick representatives and crew for those three missions.  Your first priority will be to bring the good Captain up to speed and outfit him for his voyage to Sudea.

“Sudea,” Lim murmured, “do you think they will greet us as friends?  We’ve been sinking each other’s ships on sight for four thousand years.”

“We have to hope that they will, my friend,” the High Admiral replied.  “There’s a war coming and I want us to be on the right side this time.  We need to put our old enmities aside and hope that our old adversaries are willing to do the same.  For Sudea, I need a man who can think on his feet and make fast decisions under pressure.  I need this for all our ambassadors, but especially Sudea.  I believe the captain in the next room fills those requirements.”

The admirals stepped into the antechamber where Baruk and the orderly waited.  Both snapped to attention when the superior officers entered.  “Captain Baruk,” Kor began, “Grand Admiral Lim has a proposition for you, which I hope you will fully consider and accept.”

“Certainly, Sir, I will give it my utmost consideration,” Baruk replied.

“Good,” the High Admiral replied, clapping Baruk on the shoulder as he passed.  “There is much for me to do this afternoon, so I will leave you in the capable hands of the Grand Admiral.  Good day all.”

“Good day, Sir,” all three replied, saluting as their leader exited the room.

“Come with me to my office, Captain,” Lim directed, as he strode to the door.  Baruk followed him out and fell into step to Lim’s left, as they continued down the hallway.  He noticed the Grand Admiral carried a wrapped bundle, but thought better than to inquire about it.  “In here,” Lim directed him to a door on the left.  They entered an antechamber, identical to the one they had just left, complete with a nearly identical orderly, who snapped to attention as the Grand Admiral entered.  “Relax Chilo,” Lim directed, “The Captain and I have some important matters to discuss.  Let no one disturb us, unless they be the Grand Marshal or the High Admiral; am I understood?”

“Understood, Sir,” Chilo replied, then opened the door to the inner office.  Lim’s office was only slightly smaller than Kor’s and was similarly Spartan in its furnishings.  The admirals were lifelong seamen and tended not to over clutter their workspaces with unnecessary accoutrements.

After the door closed behind them, Lim turned to Baruk and asked, “So, how good is your Sudean?”

“Passable, Sir,” Baruk replied.  “It’s not far off from Thallasian and I’ve had a bit of experience interrogating captured Sudeans.”

“Good, because you will need that if you accept our offer for a new position, just opening up.”

“A new position, Sir…of what sort?” 

“Sort of a lateral promotion,” Lim began to explain.  “Do you recognize this, Captain Baruk?”  He unwrapped the bundle to reveal a cutlass of unfamiliar design, with an S-shaped cross-hilt of gold, rather than a full knuckle bow and a silver wire-wrapped dogleg grip.  The heavy gold pommel was formed as a stylized osprey head, symbolizing Thallasia.  The scabbard was of red dyed ray skin with silver fittings and bound in crisscrossing gold cord.  Baruk thought it looked a bit gaudy, to say the least.

“No, Sir, I do not recognize that sword, should I?”

“No Captain, you shouldn’t, as it’s never been seen before, aside from the smith who made it and the High Admiral.  He had these made as part of a plan he has had in the works for  a  time  now.”   Lim  drew  the  sword  partway from  the  scabbard, revealing a highly polished blade of watered steel.  “This is an Ambassador’s Sword, a symbol of office for the Diplomatic Corps.”

“Diplomatic Corps?” Baruk questioned.  “I didn’t know we had one, Sir.”

“We don’t, as of yet, Captain Baruk.  How would you like to be the first member?” Lim asked and then went into explaining the High Admiral’s intentions, to the best of his knowledge.  He finished by saying, “As an ambassador, you will be equivalent in rank to Admiral or Field Marshal and will report directly to the High Admiral.  Eventually, as the corps grows, it will likely be necessary to appoint a Grand Ambassador, or some such equivalent and we will most likely promote to that position from within the corps.  As envoy to Sudea, we expect yours to be the most challenging position of the original lot and as the first appointee, you will be senior to the others as well.  Your star appears to be rising, despite the setback this morning Captain, or should I say Ambassador?”  Lim held out the sword to Baruk, as he completed his spiel.

Baruk hesitated only a moment, before reaching out to grab the cutlass.  He knew he would be stupid to balk at this opportunity, despite the unexpected nature of it.  “Sir, I would be honored to accept this charge.”  This appointment effectively catapulted him two ranks, despite the fact that he would not have even been up for Commodore for two more years, accelerating his career by at least eight years.

“No time to think on it Ambassador?” Lim remarked wryly as he relinquished the sword to Baruk.  “I guess Kor was correct in his estimation of you; you certainly do make quick decisions.”

“I would have to be an idiot to pass it up, Sir and I hope it wouldn’t require additional thought for me to be an idiot,” Baruk replied, with just a hint of a smile.

Well put, Ambassador Baruk,” Lim said, with a laugh.  “Now I need you to return to your quarters and get some rest.  Report to me tomorrow, one bell past dawn and we will begin planning your journey.  One more thing, Ambassador, stay away from the waterfront this evening.  That is a direct order from the High Admiral.

Walking across the courtyard to his apartment in the single officer’s quarters, he thought on the fortunes of the day,
I started this morning commanding a Trident and now this evening, all my men are dead and I’m promoted.  Somehow, it doesn’t feel right.  I would give anything to go back to this morning.  If I ever get my hands on that bastard of a red wizard, I’ll cut him to bits, slowly, starting with his fingertips. 
He thought then of the condolence letters, he would be needing to write, starting in the morning.  Many of his men had families and he would need to assure they received compensation.  Ambassador or not, he still needed to discharge his final duties as Captain.  He knew exactly why he was forbidden to be at the harbor this evening.  The red bastard would come back after sundown, with the spotlights then powerless to drive him off.

Chapter 22

Gurlachday, Day 7, Squash Moon, 8760 Sudean Calendar

Are you sure you wish to poke this nest, after all, Your Grace,” Nergui asked, as the elvish sailors lowered the gangplank to the dock.  They sailed into the harbor of Corin unchallenged, which was suspicious enough and now the docks seemed deserted as well.  The necromancer put out his feelers, but could sense not so much as a wharf rat in the vicinity.  Torches guttered against the darkness, lighting well the docks, but nothing further in.  “I don’t care for the fact that I can’t sense anything, living or dead here.”

“They may have tricks, necromancer and tricks are all they will amount to,” Zormat replied.  “They will not withstand my power as I act in the name of the One True God.”  Tenoch looked terrified, as was usual and Zormat was quickly becoming weary of the timid Kolixtlani priest.  He was more weary of the sarcastic Adari, with his barbed comments, who just rolled his eyes, put on the stoic expression of one who expected to die soon and was at peace with the revelation.  The son of the Nameless One drew his flaming sword and the black star tattooed on his forehead flared red at the edges, matching the crimson glow of the blade.  He signaled his elves and the two men to follow him down the gangplank.  “Be alert for signs of ambush,” he exhorted them.  “They are likely to attempt something of the sort and I can sense nothing of their intentions.  They are well masked, wherever they may be.”  He was the first down the gangplank, his second behind him, followed by the men and a squad of twelve more sailors, armed with sword and shield.  His first, along with a skeleton crew, remained on board to secure the ship.  They hit the dock and rapidly fanned into a protective wedge, weapons and armor glittering with barely visible red energy from the latent power imbued unto them.   Rigging snapped in the wind, still blowing strong, though the storm had passed to the north and masking any sounds that may have emanated from the apparently abandoned docks.  Five paces up the dock and the red luminance of their weapons and armor winked out, Zormat’s included.  The tattoo on his forehead went dark and he felt as though he had been punched in the midsection.  His internal store of power disappeared in the space of a heartbeat.  The others felt it as well and the formation halted suddenly.  A bright blue tracery of energy suddenly rose about them

“Missing something wizard?” a voice asked out of the darkness, in the trader’s tongue the Adari necromancer taught him on the voyage.  High Admiral Kor stepped into the torchlight, along with Grand Marshal Haldor and a tall hooded figure in blue robes.  The sailor to Zormat’s right flank swung his sword at the blue web and the blade clattered across the dock in five neat slices, leaving him with a hand width stub forward of the hilt.  He dropped it and drew his long dagger instead.  “As you can see, it would not be advisable to rush our perimeter, unless you would like to cubed into shark bait,” Kor continued.  “Now this is a first; elvish red wizards, in cahoots with an Adari and a Kolixtlani.  Oh, how the world is changing.  I assure you, wizard, that I have more than your number of blue wizards and as many red, prepared to obliterate you and your pretty little boat.  Now tell me, what brings you here and why did you return, after sinking three of my ships and killing ninety of my men?  Did you think you would receive a warm reception, or did you, in your arrogance, believe your little crew could roll right over us after nightfall?”

“I come in the name of my father, the One True God, to whom you are vassal,” Zormat answered, continuing with, “Your ships intended to destroy us outright, without so much as hailing us first.  I merely acted to defend my ship and crew.”

“One True God, eh, I don’t have much time for gods, but I always thought that was the Allfather.  He doesn’t fly the Black Sun, as far as I know.  That belongs to his deviant son, the Nameless God and you say you’re his son?  That’s really new; the Nameless One has a son and it’s an elf!  Your friends should have told you that we tolerate no trespass in our territorial waters.  If you had flown the Thallasian flag, you would have been hailed, rather than flamed.”

“The one you refer to is an impostor, who stole my father’s dominion from him at the time of creation.  Your nation fought for him in the last war.  Why do you reject him now?”  Zormat was enraged by this worthless man’s insolence, but he was powerless to do anything about it.

“Let’s see…,” Kor mused, “that Great War, as the westerners call it, wasn’t so great for us on the losing side.  It took us centuries to recover from that and we have no intention of finding ourselves on the wrong side of that fight again.  I would as soon we stayed out of it completely, but we likely won’t have that option.  Now, aren’t you just a little curious as to where all your power went?  This is no fun if you don’t care.” 

“I don’t care,” Zormat replied drily.  A spear of red energy shot from the bridge of the elvish ship, toward the High Admiral, only to dissipate suddenly, as it passed over the dock.  Twin shafts of red and blue shot out of the darkness, plastering the remains of Zormat’s First Mate across the bridge.  Pink gore dripped from the railings and the faces and tunics of the two crewmembers on the bridge.  They coughed and retched, slipping in the slime that was once their leader, as a hail of pebbles catapulted onto their deck.

“Not the best idea,” Kor remarked, “that will take some serious cleaning.”  Zormat’s rage grew at the man’s callous demeanor.  Kor went on to say, “Care or not, I just have to tell you about the most amazing substance we discovered.  We call it bloodstone and it’s quarried in the desert to the north.”  He held out a stone in one hand.  It glowed with an inner light that Zormat immediately recognized, with a hunger, as the energy missing from his core.  “It has the interesting property of soaking up every available drop of red magic anywhere near it.”  He tossed the stone to Zormat.  It bounced off one of the blue strands with a twang, like a plucked harp string, but the elf managed to catch it in his off hand.  The stone felt unnaturally cold to him, as it absorbed any residual energy he still had.  He dropped it quickly and it bounced back through the web.  He looked over to the robed figure and saw he sported five rings of the same substance on his right hand, the one gripping a finely carved wooden staff with a glowing blue crystal mounted on top.  The man’s face was obscured by the shadow of his hood, but Zormat was certain he could see a blue glow where the eyes should be.  “Now, wizard, you have two choices.  Number one is to get on your ship, turn around and tell your daddy we aren’t interested in his offer, this time around.   Number 2,  is to rot in a cell,  paved and walled in bloodstone,  for the rest of your life, or until we get sick of feeding you and hang you from the gallows.  So, what’s your choice?”