by Kris Schnee
"Soon, Soon!" Carolus called down from the west. Minutes later, his scouts saw the enemy first: sails on the southern horizon. Mighty hulls rose into view. Ahead of them, many smaller boats raced for shore.
The flotilla's size awed Dominic. Every one of the smaller craft had Servants aboard, whose masks made them look like shadow-faced demons.
"So many!" Dominic heard someone say. As one, the soldiers guarding his stretch of beach stepped back in anticipation of a cloud of man-hunting arrows.
Dominic stared at the endless mass of sailboats speeding along from their parent ships, whose decks swarmed with yet more masked men. Servants rigging sails? Servants leading gangs of archers? That wasn't their place... Dominic grinned. "It's a trick!" he shouted. "Spare masks on men without real power. See how they're doing jobs Servants never do? Pass the word on!"
A relieved laugh leaked from a few of the men.
The enemy were less powerful than they seemed, after all, but still a threat. But if the reserve of Servants from the capital mostly wasn't on the advance flotilla, it was probably in the larger ships coming behind them. Since Dominic had put himself near the shore instead of hiding behind his troops, much of their force was coming directly for him. He looked at the converging V of boat wakes, and smiled. "As soon as they pass the buoy. Now!"
He and half a dozen men who'd trained for this one task threw all their magical skill into springing the sunken coral pillars and the woven cable connecting them to this spot. The water lit up green from underneath and bits of the ocean exploded. The pillars couldn't replicate the constant water-repulsion power at the capital, but they gave a valiant effort at it. Whirlpools opened up beneath the oncoming ships and sucked them down, and then the pillars failed violently. The broken spells let the whirlpools gulp back inward on themselves like hungry mouths, devouring screaming men. Sailors flailed for the surface and boats cracked, splintered, and became wild spears that gouged the survivors. Dominic saw one man use his last gasp to tear off his mask, so that he wouldn't die as a false Servant.
In spite of that first strike, many of the enemy were coming ashore. He'd used up the trap on the smaller boats. A soldier said, "Prince, if you're not retreating inland, we should get to the Triad." The shore defenders' first arrows struck a few men who'd lost their shields already.
Dominic nodded. "Launch the fleet! Give them a chance to maneuver but don't engage yet!" He led the retreat to the deck of the sailing vessel Triad to fight aboard her. "Anyone who just escaped our trap will have spears and a few mages at best. Wet bowstrings won't do them any good."
Triad weighed anchor beneath a solar flag. Just then, two dolphins leaped into view, racing each other. They were each showing off something tied to their tails. Dominic had someone climb down a ladder to meet them. Aha; they'd brought two copies of a note and competed to deliver it.
"What does it say, Prince?" asked Triad's captain.
Dominic grinned and showed it. "It's about our allies' secret weapon. They found a way to set off a magic disruption for a few minutes. If we see a flare, the weapon is about to go off, and we should shut off all contact with the Weave."
"No magic?" asked the captain, whose profession used spells daily. He had an officer pass the word on.
"It's perfect! The enemy has barely deployed their Servants yet."
Triad's men shot at the foes straggling up onto the beach or pursuing them by boat. The other ships from Avicenna had begun to come under fire from enemy ballistae, forcing them to dodge in slow motion without much success. Here and there a shot struck home and Dominic had to watch ships crack and sink. His own side's shots took their toll too, though. Just not enough.
At last, the Mithraic fleet began to appear in the west. Dominic waved wildly from his deck and raised a flag everyone knew signaled "they're here and it's about damn time". Despite so many Baccatan warships ahead, the mighty allied fleet was about to carry the day!
A terrified sailor shouted from the port railing. "What is that?!" Men raced toward him to spot the behemoth of wood and coral and metal rising from the sea, only a few feet high but dimly seen with most of its bulk beneath the waves. The Holy State had built a hidden, sunken ship!
"Full ahead starboard!" yelled the captain. But it was too late. The fantastic ship rammed them portside with its jagged iron beak, making Triad shudder and her timbers scream. Dominic sliced a chunk of the railing and speared it down into the enemy ship as hard as he could, but there wasn't enough mass to the blow. The secret weapon infuriated Dominic. Of all the ways the State could possibly have innovated, their best efforts had gone into killing!
Pretty effectively, judging from how Triad was taking on water. The enemy seemed to be trying to pull back out from the ramming embrace without much success. He shouted, "I'll get below. Other mages, to me!"
Below decks was a wet hell of darkness, stench, and chilly sea. They saw the iron ram piercing the port hull. Dominic led the men to try sealing the breach by bending and stretching the remaining wood. He stood with water around his ankles, straining. Then he grinned. The enemy had bound themselves to this ship, so why not take advantage? He made a mighty slash with a motion of his hands, to slice into the wood around the ram. A shout came from inside as someone tried to re-seal it, but Dominic was strong enough to cut a door into it and slam a wooden spike into a shadowy figure inside.
Other men beside him went to work with cutlass and spear to take the sunken ship's crew by surprise. Water gushed over them all and made the hull creak further as it tilted. Dominic kicked and slashed his way through the Baccatans until all had fallen but one. "Prepare to take on passengers," Dominic told his new captive. "How does this contraption move?"
The prisoner glared at him. Dominic floated several darts and bits of debris a few inches from his face.
"The cranks behind me," said the sub-marine ship's crewman. "They're like a water pump. Knowing that won't do you any good. You're stuck here aboard Turtle."
Dominic called out, "Crew, get on board!" It'd be a tight fit. The sullen prisoner had a moment when he could have sabotaged the ship, on the theory that maybe the rebels would find a way to pull it loose, but that moment had passed. He'd been too busy watching Dominic's men throw the dead and wounded members of the loyalist crew out to make room.
Triad's crew piled into a space meant for half as many. Dominic and the other mages struggled to re-seal the damaged hull around them by tearing away more of their old ship's, plastering chunks of it inexpertly to their own side. Good enough for now. The water-ship shuddered as it ripped its way out of the breach. "You're in charge of this thing," Dominic told Triad's captain.
"What are we supposed to do with this toy?" All of them strained to see out through the arrangement of mirrors and tiny, dirty glass windows near the bow and above them. Totally impractical! Though to be fair, it'd taken one ship already.
"Seems a shame to waste it." Dominic sadly watched the old ship sinking beside them from his view just below the waterline. The air had already grown stuffy in here and his legs were caught between three other people. "Let's use it to get a better ride."
The captain said, "Somebody get that stern hatch open. Then, we'll slam this into the biggest Baccatan ship we can find and hope we can --"
"You mean that one?" A crewman had spotted a massive hull from their odd dolphin's-eye view.
"That'll do. Aim for it and go!"
It was hard to tell how quickly they moved while in this eerie, cramped space with water splashing down on them through the open hatch. What fool had designed this death-trap? Still, the enemy hull grew closer. At last there was a colossal scream of iron against wood and the entire cramped gang became even more intimate, slammed forward by the impact.
Dominic said, "We'll open the hull as before. Everyone force your way as well as you can into the ship and destroy anyone who resists. Expect Servants in close quarters. Best tactic is to get into their faces before they can skewer you with... well, everything aroun
d them. I expect we'll soon rip the thing apart and use it for a raft. Prisoner, if you want to try pulling the vessel back out, have fun." It didn't look like he could be very effective without more crew.
It was easier to tear the strange boat open from the inside. Everyone spilled out into the same chaos as before, only against men whose masks made them even more inhuman in the darkness. Dominic did his best to counter their moves, weighing down all their attacks as he'd done against Jasper. The brawl took them up to the deck to kick and claw their way through the crew while cold seawater poured in behind them. Dominic ripped up boards beneath people's feet, saw the foremast coming down toward him, and dodged, landing a punch on a Servant's neck in the meantime. Something knocked him down from one side. He rolled to avoid the next blow from a jagged spar. The world tilted surreally from the incoming flood.
Then, he found himself and a few other men surrounded by masked foes. Some of them might not be true Servants, judging from the blades in their hands. Dominic looked for a way out but saw none. Instead he crouched and slapped the deck with one palm, shattering the whole middle section beneath the Baccatans' feet. Some fell and others staggered. Just then through a wound in the hull, he saw a strange burning arrow in the distance, blue with some sort of alchemical fire. Aha!
He averted his eyes from the sky and shut his mind to magic-sense. He'd become so used to using it that the world seemed suddenly drained of its green, of its information about the locations of living things. The Servants who still faced him flung spears in his direction that he couldn't repel, only dodge in a way that sent him tripping down a narrow staircase. He crashed shoulder-first onto filthy, warped wood.
Even with his mind shut to it, the effect of the hidden mage-weapon flared in the sky. Whatever bit of the Madlands the western fleet had found, exploded just after the signal arrow. The world lit up in emerald whorls for a second and then grew dim. Dominic waited for another moment, then tried his own magic-sense again. The world had returned to normal but for a massive ripple effect that bent all spells outward in a direction that didn't quite exist. The true Servants among the enemy crew reeled blindly, flailing to attack anyone but unable to even see where they were going, let alone wield a spell. Dominic grimaced and struck them first. His men had looked away from the Weave too; they joined in and overpowered the foe. The rest of the fight was short and brutally one-sided.
Beneath them, the underwater ship struggled to pull free of the other, doomed hull, but couldn't. Dominic felt the real ship listing so far that standing was becoming difficult. "Time to go! Into the water and we'll forge a raft!" He ushered everyone off and then leaped over the shattered rail, taking some of the hull down with him. He felt it buoying him up without him even touching it.
The wood and waves served him, to rescue the crew and let them crouch on the sea on a makeshift canoe. More flotsam became oars in their hands. Together they wove through the wreckage and stabilized their craft. When they could pay attention to the world around them again, they saw ships approaching. The fleets were engaged, now, and the danger was far from over. But the ship nearest their raft bore the golden sun flag of the west -- and there were more like it.
A griffin on the deck swooped down to grab Dominic and drop him onto the wood. "All Right?"
Dominic lay there battered and dazed. He nodded, and his rescuer took off again to fetch the others.
Arrows and heavy bolts flew, and the enemy mages had begun to fight back again. But the western solar flag flew high, the remainder of his own fleet was coming from the north, and from the east came a few boats from Shirker's Noose with improvised copies of his own trefoil sun banner.
The captain of this ship bowed to Dominic and said, "Good to see you, Prince."
"Likewise. It's your fight now, captain."
* * *
After a battle that Dominic mainly just watched, the Mithraic fleet controlled the sea around Temple Island. No cargo ship could break through now, and as Jakob gleefully reported, none would be coming from his own home. But then the two men fell silent, thinking about what they were doing.
"How bad do you think it will get before the capital gives in?" said Dominic.
"They've never really suffered there. It won't take our fellow Servants long, the ones who've survived."
* * *
Days passed. No word of surrender came from Temple Island. "Damn them," said Dominic. "I've made it clear it's over. I want them as our friends, not corpses."
Jakob and Sir Marion and the griffin Sir Carolus were with him now, observing the island from the deck of a borrowed ship. The bit of magically repelled ocean, at the Throne By the Sea, seemed like a cheap party trick compared to the mundane might of the blockading fleet. Dominic was glad that ordinary blades and arrows had carried the day against the Servants. He was proud of his own skills, but spears and crossbows were available to more than the elites.
Dominic asked, "Carolus, do you knights wish that more people had your powers?"
The griffin tapped the underside of his beak with a talon. "Only If More Are Worthy."
Dominic wasn't sure he approved. The Servants had used their power over magic to justify being a ruling elite. The griffins at least tried not to rule, but to some extent they did anyway. He supposed the way to prevent any one group from dominating his new 'Unbound Realm', was to make sure everyone's varied talents could bring them respect and power.
He said, "In our new Realm, everyone that can learn spellcraft will be allowed to, without fear of being forced into anything. And those that can't should still be able to read, to fight, to do what they please." He stared out at the silent Temple Island, trying to see what the people were doing. "We have to make this new way better than the old, to justify what we've done to build it."
Marion said, "We can learn things from your people too. That underwater ship, that magnificent well at Seaflower. You'll have our help at rebuilding the country and earning back the people's trust."
Jakob nodded. "It'll just take time. And an effort to really be different."
* * *
"How much longer?" Dominic paced and slapped the ship's railing a few days later. "Get me one of those dolphins to ferry me there, to talk sense into them."
Marion told him flatly, "No. We can't give them any hope of winning without total surrender."
Jakob and Rose stared longingly at the capital. Rose said, "They must have laid in supplies for a siege just in case the invincible Baccatan fleet turned out not to be."
Dominic had been scribbling estimates obsessively. "I took that into account. Even so, they should be running out of food. They have to see that their only chance is to give in!"
They'd made no direct contact in days. The last time, they'd sent a package with the surrender demand and an offer of medical supplies, and had it towed by an enterprising dolphin. The poor creature had limped back with an arrow through its tail.
"Surrender already!" the Prince called out across the sea.
22. End State
The Prince was still aboard ship days later. He didn't want to set foot on land again until he could do so on Temple Island.
"Bombard them," said Perrin, decked out now in noble fashions. He'd arrived with the Mithraic fleet, boasting of kills and adventures. "You think you're being as nice as possible by leaving them to starve? You're not. They'd get the picture sooner if you broke every building within reach. How about starting with those coral pillars? I heard you did a great job using some improvised ones already."
Jakob said, "Those are a national treasure."
"You'd rather kill more people instead?"
"You're the bloodthirsty one!" said Jakob.
"No, I just want to break them."
Rose, Marion, Jakob and Perrin argued with each other. Carolus the griffin pointedly slept through it. Dominic excused himself and stood alone by the bow. For the last few days, the Mithraians had been grudgingly waiting for Dominic's command to try assaulting the capital, hoping to plunder
it. At the same time they were testing him politically; some spies of his reported suspicious activity around the cities he'd conquered. They were also still pressuring him to accept the title of Duke, hand over most of Baccata to new lords from the west, and start paying taxes to the distant western capital. He wouldn't mind being demoted, but his people deserved better than to be signed over as vassals of new foreign masters. There was an ongoing diplomatic dance, as a result. It was in the Mithraians' interest to crush the remains of the Holy State even if they ended up not ruling very much of it, since it would at least cease being their enemy.
He eventually turned to face young Perrin. "You're right. The Throne By the Sea and its sunken district mean a lot to the people of Temple Island. I had wanted to protect those things, to minimize the harm, but by leaving the things alone I'm only hurting the people more. Art and restaurants can be rebuilt." He sent his officers into a flurry of activity. The target was, as Jasper had put it, a distraction from the people's problems.
An hour later, the distraction ended. Several rounds of ballista fire hit the mysterious wall of water and one volley struck the coral pillars solidly enough to break the enchantment. The frustrated sea roared in to take back the underwater district. The effect on the Mithraic ships was nothing at all, at their distance. Now, there was little to be proud of on that island, except for the Nether which was hidden away to all but the masters of the Holy State.
It took one more day before an officer called Dominic up to the deck to see the result. A boat had come with a white flag, carrying three thin, miserable representatives of the Servant class. Even in surrender, the State insisted on delegating to the proper authorities. Dominic didn't smile, but he breathed a long-held sigh of relief. At last the destruction and abuse could stop. And now, the rebuilding could begin.