ZERVAKAN

by Rob Steiner

 

Chapter 12

“I will not lie to our greatest ally,” Dylan told Lee, hoping the finality in his voice would dissuade Lee from further argument.  It was three hours past midnight, and Dylan had not slept since the night they had left Calaman, so he was in no mood for debate.  But Lee persisted.

“I’m not saying you should lie,” Lee said in a low voice, “just don’t volunteer any information.  If King Hamacz finds out about Kaneta, he may not transport us to Markwatch.  Not even Jeluha had heard of the incident, so Hamacz likely doesn’t know either.”

The train’s second Edellian stop at the village of Jeluha—hardly more than a train depot—had gone well, considering what a tragic disaster the last stop had been.  It enabled the train to take on enough coal for the rest of its journey.  The station manager was friendly, despite his curious glances at the train’s broken windows and bullet riddled exterior.  Edoss had ordered the conductor to tell him it was Cossop raiders who had attacked them en route.  The manager nodded sympathetically, and gave no indication he had heard of the firefight in Kaneta.  This only emboldened Lee’s efforts to persuade Dylan to lie to King Hamacz.

Dylan shook his head.  “No.  I won’t begin my administration’s first meeting with a friend of the Compact by keeping something like this from him.  We will acknowledge our actions and offer any form of restitution the King deems appropriate.  I’ve made my decision.”

Lee leaned back in his chair and stared out the window.  Dylan regretted snapping at him, but he was too tired, scared, and frustrated over the past few days to apologize.

With the late hour, Dylan saw few people on the streets of Sydear’s outlying areas.  Scattered clay homes became small villages, then towns with street lamps illuminating empty cobblestone roads.  The night was cloudy, yet the rings shone through in all their supernaturalist splendor.  Dylan realized a thought like that would have made him wince just a month ago.

The train’s arrival in Sydear was a mixed blessing.  On one hand Dylan was happy to be in a city that had not seen the destruction wrought on the frontier towns by the Angra harrowers.  Nor had it had a storm like Calaman.  On the other hand, he had to tell King Hamacz, the Compact’s most faithful ally through both Mazumdahri wars, that his Shadarlak Armsmen had killed several Edellians in Kaneta.  Lee’s fears were valid, but Dylan felt he had no choice but to be honest with the King.  How could he meet the King face to face and not tell him about the incident?  What would Hamacz think if he learned the news after Dylan had met with him and used his ships to get to Markwatch, yet “forgot” to mention the tragedy?

The train bypassed Sydear’s Jewel of the North Station—almost a replica of the Revela Street Station in Calaman—and continued on to the wharves on the waterfront.  Though the train would get curious looks from the dockworkers reporting for their morning shifts, at least it would not be throngs of Edellians in the public train station watching the approach.  Dylan knew that rumors of his “secret” arrival in Sydear would eventually get out.  The goal was to keep the news a “rumor” for as long as possible, at least until they were on their way to Markwatch.

When the train reached the wharves, it slowed to a crawl, then lurched to a stop near several grain silos to the left, and the Gulf of Pagilah on the right.  Fishermen on the Gulf might notice the train, but the silos would block casual spectators from the city itself.

Outside the train sat a nondescript coach with curtains over its windows.  The driver stood next to the horse, checking its harness and paying no attention to the train.  Another man stood next to the coach—head held high, back straight—and approached the conductor as he stepped down from the locomotive.  They spoke a few words, and then the conductor motioned the man onto the Speaker’s car.

The man was well dressed, though not in the customary livery Dylan knew from meeting other Edellian agents of the King.  Dylan was grateful for that.  A King’s man standing on the wharves at four o’clock in the morning would certainly draw attention from any passers-by.  The agent glanced at the broken windows and damaged furniture in the Speaker’s car, but his smooth face gave no sign of curiosity.

The man bowed low, then said to Dylan in a smooth Edellian accent, “Honored guests, I am Cavares Aisha, the Word of King Hamacz.  King Hamacz requests the honor of meeting the new Recindian Compact Speaker at your convenience, Excellency.”

Dylan stood, as did Lee and General Myndehr.  “The honor of a meeting with the King is mine,” Dylan said.  “Lead the way, Word Aisha.”

Aisha bowed again, then turned and exited the car.  Four Shadarlak fell in behind Aisha and in front of Dylan, while four more proceeded behind Dylan.

Outside the car, the Edellian air was cold.  The clouds released a misty drizzle that made the air even colder.  Dylan ignored the chill—for it was nothing compared to an Orlenian winter in the Perla Mountains—and strode after the Word, who stopped in front of the curtained wagon.  The Word opened the carriage door, and a tall man with a dark, well-trimmed beard and the clothes of a wealthy commoner stepped out.  He towered several inches above Dylan’s tallest Shadarlak, but he had a warmth in his eyes that made his size less intimidating.  Dylan hoped that friendliness still existed after this meeting.

The King bowed, as did Dylan, and then said, “Excellency, welcome to Sydear.  It is unfortunate this visit must remain secret, for I would hate to think you would form an opinion of my city based on what you see around you.”

The King smiled ruefully as he glanced at the dirty wharves, where boxes of cargo sat nearby and the smell of rotting fish was strong enough to cut with a saber.

“Your Highness,” Dylan said, “from what I saw of the city coming in, you have much to be proud of.  And it is an honor to finally meet the Recindian Compact’s greatest and most trusted ally.”

“Thank you, Excellency.  I understand your time is limited, so I will escort you to your ship.  It has been stocked with the supplies, provisions, and horses you requested.”

King Hamacz extended his hand toward a pier, where Dylan saw a sloop tied to the dock.  Dylan told Lee to have the men transfer their supplies to the ship, then followed the King, with the Shadarlak in tow.

The King frowned at the train as they turned toward the docks.

“Excellency, I’m curious as to what happened to your train.”

“The damage you see is what makes my mission to Markwatch all the more important,” Dylan said.  “We were attacked in a Compact village on the way here by those who know how to wield the power of the rings above us.  This person was able to create…monstrous creatures.  I suppose there’s no other way to explain them.  We barely got away.”

The King gave Dylan a sharp look.  “We have just received word today of these attacks near the Perla Mountains.  Many of my plainsmen still have faith in the Old Ways, that the rings herald the end of time, so I thought they were simply the imaginations of a simple people.  I thought perhaps the Cossops were playing games.  But now, hearing the same reports from the Compact Speaker and a Pathist…perhaps the end times are here.”

“Hopefully my mission will prevent that.”  Dylan paused, and then said, “There is another matter of which you must be aware.  On our way here, there was an incident in the town of Kaneta, just north of the Perla Mountains.”

“Incident?” the King asked.

“Your people there are frightened.  Something has attacked them the previous few nights, which made many people try to barter their way onto my train.  We did not have the room so…”

The King’s friendly demeanor began to evaporate, and he regarded Dylan with a blank stare.  “What happened?”

“The bartering turned into a panicked riot.  One of my men was shot, killed.”  Dylan stopped and looked directly into the King’s eyes.  “The rest of my men returned fire from our train.  I don’t know how many Kanetans were hurt, but seven of my men were killed in the return fire.  I wanted to tell you this personally.  I apologize for any loss of Edellian life, and I offer the resources of the entire Compact to make any restitution you deem appropriate for this unfortunate accident.”

The King closed his eyes and lowered his head, then looked past Dylan at the sleeping city of Sydear.  “Seven of your men died,” Hamacz said.  “I would say blood has been paid in blood.”  The King sighed.  “But once news of this becomes common knowledge, it will be difficult for me to maintain our alliance.  My people grow weary of the war with Mazumdahr.  Even though it is in a cease-fire and only minor skirmishes occur, Edellian men are still dying in those skirmishes.  A Mazumdahri ambassador visited me two months ago offering a separate peace treaty.”

Dylan was stunned.  He hesitated, but asked, “What did you tell him?”

Hamacz smiled sadly.  “I told him I would think on it.  You must understand that we do not have the resources that you in the Compact have.  My country is large in land, but few in people.  We were once nomads, not all that different from the Cossops.  We have no industry other than what we learn from you, nor the population to sustain a long war, which this war has become.  My people are tired.”

The King shook his head.  “I know the Mazumdahri are trying to break our alliance.  I know what will happen if they do.  But I fear the unrest in my country will be far worse if this war does not end soon.  And I fear that this incident in Kaneta will be all my people need to demand that we make peace with Mazumdahr now.  Without you, if necessary.”

Dylan stared numbly at his scarred train.  It looked as if the train had been target practice for a company of Mazhumdahri musketmen.  Edellian soldiers helped the Shadarlak unload the Compact mission’s gear onto oxen-pulled wagons that slowly rumbled back and forth between the docked sloop and the train.

What would happen if the Compact suddenly lost its most steadfast ally?  It was only with Edellia’s alliance that the Compact had been able to hold off the Mazumdahri onslaught on its northern border.

Dylan said to the King, “You must know that peace can only come if we stand united.  Their entire civilization is geared toward expanding this religion they’ve built up around their ‘Immortal King.’  If they destroy the Compact, it will only be a matter of time before they come after you and the other free nations of Recindia.  Your Highness, I fear for the continent’s future if Edellia makes a separate peace.”

“As do I,” the King said sadly.  There was a quiet moment as they both watched the Shadarlak and Edellian soldiers load the sloop.  The King broke the silence and said, “Perhaps the Mystics will be able to help you.”

At that moment, Dylan knew the King had already made his decision.  The Mystics were now the Compact’s only hope in fending off a redeployed Mazumdahr.  Without Edellia to worry about on its northern flank, the Mazumdahri would surely concentrate all their forces on the Compact.

Dylan realized that by giving the him an Edellian boat to take to the Beldamark, the King was trying to help the Compact one last time.

Just before he ensured its destruction.