To Be Victorious: The Maestro Chronicles Book 6

by John Buttrick

  “I have said what I have said,” Ruth gave an answer that neither confirmed nor denied the interpretations of her revelation by the others; Very typical of a Seer.

  Daniel focused on Silvia, who was biting her lip. “Do you have any additional chores for me to take on?”

  Her usual response to a question from him posed in that manner was to threaten him in a sisterly way, but this time she continued biting her lip, which usually meant she had a vision and did not yet understand it enough to speak of it. After every eye was on her, especially Ruth’s, Silvia opened her mouth. “I see Tarin Conn drinking glass after glass of water. I don’t know why he is so thirsty, that vision has been occurring for the last thirteen days. I see a winged-serpent making a nest on the western side of Serinia, that one I have been seeing for several months, but I don’t know the significance of the first vision or the meaning of the last. I had a vision while David and I were seeking the strangers who turned out to be members of our own troupe. In the great race to victory between you and Tarin Conn, the Dark Maestro is still far ahead, but whatever you did tonight gave you a burst of speed and you are now running faster than he is. I cannot say whether or not you will overtake him, but I can say you are running well.”

  Hopefully fast enough to overtake him by fall,

  “My daughter’s daughter, a Seer gives the revelation when it is sought or as fast as possible when the vision is dire and we reveal what is seen whether or not we understand the meaning; else vital information may not get to the recipient in time. This is especially true when the Seer serves at the side of the Chosen Vessel,” Ruth’s words were spoken softly, but their impact on Silvia, who was cringing as if she had been publicly beaten with rods, were causing the younger Seer’s face to flush to bright pink.

  Daniel knew Ruth to be right about the timeliness in which information should be passed on to him, but he had corrected that problem within the guild for the most part and had no complaints about Silvia’s performance as a Seer. “For a very long time, before I was even born, I was behind in the race against Tarin Conn. Silvia, your visions have had me crawling, taking baby steps, walking, jogging, occasionally moving faster, although not as fast as he. One time, after the Battle of Shantear, you saw the Dark Maestro as having tripped and I managed to gain a little ground, but not for long. From then up till now I have been falling behind again. This is the first time you have seen me running faster than my opponent and I will tell you why I believe this is so in a little while,” he paused, looking at each person seated at the table before continuing, “Tarin Conn drinking glass after glass of water is confirmation of something I have been pondering for days, but don’t want to speak about at this time. The meaning of a flying reptile laying eggs on a beach eludes me, but we will figure that out eventually, or possibly Simon will,” focusing completely on her he said, “Silvia, just so you know, I am thankful to have you and David by my side.”

  She brightened up at the compliment and it did not hurt when Ruth smiled at hearing her granddaughter being shown appreciation.

  “Daniel,” the voice of First Accomplished Leah Barryn came into his head through the array. “General Kall and is army is on the move again. The Lobenian Legions are having difficulty containing him, due to several thousand Serpents who have teleported into the region.”

  The war takes a pause for no one.

  Daniel knew the quiet would not last long. “We are coming,” he sent back calmly, even though adrenalin was pumping through his system. “Tim, explain the new modifications to Marsha. Marsha, I want you to wake the crews of the other mantas, and make the modifications.” She smiled, it was the first time he appointed her to make modifications; she had volunteered in the past, but since gaining her second lightning bolt he knew she was capable of the accomplishing the task without harming herself. He focused on a particular gem in his array. “Conductor Togan,” he sent.

  “Maestro, how may I serve?” the mental reply came instantly.

  “The modifications to Manta One have been installed. Accomplished Obennen will be modifying those that are here, but I want you and your Design and Development Department to work on upgrading the rest of the manta fleet as quickly as you can. Admiral Dukane is here at the naval facility and can give you the details of his experience. I am confident you will determine the technical spell-work to be employed. Also, there is a crescent-shaped island in the Eastern Ocean where I want you to create a base for mantas and Wager-class patrol-boats. Simon will give you the details.”

  “It will be as you say, Maestro,” Franklin replied, along with a strong undercurrent of anticipation and eagerness. “I have been looking forward to implementing whatever changes your test-run inspired ever since I learned of the voyage. I will be at the facility within a mark and can hardly wait to see what you have done. What did you do?”

  “I expanded on what Joel Gladder did and that is as much as I am going to reveal. Franklin, you are going to be pleased and I don’t want to spoil the surprise.”

  A sense of curiosity intermingled with the undercurrents of anticipation and eagerness came through the link as the Conductor replied, “Maestro, I will be there in a quarter of a mark.”

  “It will be as you say, Conductor,” Daniel sent through the mental link and then ended the communication. He focused his attention on the Aakacarns in the room with him. “Simon, Sero, Carlos, there is fighting to be done in Lobenia. Accomplisheds, we all have chores to do, so let’s get at them.”

  -----

  Blond-haired, blue-eyed, and frustrated, Royan Sylin stood at the bow of the Grand Imperial Ship, Lucia, one thousand feet long and one hundred fifty feet wide, with seven huge towers that resembled the masts of the old style sailing ships, except there were no sails on these, only disk-shaped platforms at the top. The titanium hull was far superior to the wooden hulls of the fleets belonging to the ocean-faring Dukedoms, of which Zelos was one. The warship was designed and created by the Musicians in the Dukedom of Metrena. Five huge aquatubes, one on the bow, two on the starboard side, and two on the portside, were created in the dukedom of Posedon and could rapid-launch drop-shaped projectiles of water that exploded on contact. A dozen globes of light illumined the exterior of the ship even in the middle of the night. He could turn around and see the bridge way on top of the forecastle if he chose, but preferred to stare at the waves sparkling with the light given off by his own globe, which he was sustaining by sending a portion of his life-force potential into the third of his seven silver rings, the one with a sapphire gem.

  The huge twin paddlewheels that moved the warship at a current speed of forty-five nautical miles per hour were amid-ship on each side and were covered over by a curved sheet of white gold. In the night they looked like small snow-covered hills to him and that only reminded him of the fact that land, Zeutha, was so very far away. No matter where he looked he saw nothing but blue-green ocean water in the day and seemingly endless darkness in the night. He felt insignificant and being only six and a half feet tall, making him one of the shortest members of the crew, did nothing to improve his self-image. Forty-eight Nephilim and four hundred fifty Anakim, two hundred of which were marines, currently served aboard the Lucia and two Nephi, of which he was one, as of ten days ago.

  “Are you frowning at the swells or the leviathans,” Sarah Shareen asked, then popped a green grape into her mouth. “Maybe eating less meat would improve how you look at things.”

  The vegetarian recently turned twenty-three years of age, making her a year younger than he, as of yesterday, nine days out of Port Regis, and with no one but him who even cared. Her light brown hair was drawn back into a tight braid that hung down her back like a length of rope. Her hat, like his, was made of Tricera skin, tough and water-proof. The mottled green matched the rest of her uniform, and incidentally her eyes. Also, like him, she had a trident with a bolt of lightning across the shaft near the half way point. The marking, given by the Spotters, was right in the middle of her forehead, and a
lso like his, the color was jade, and lowest of the hues of rank. He remembered well the day the Spotters had discovered his internal Potential, how the resulting spell created the mark that at least gave him greater prospects in life than he would have had as nothing more than a taller than average Drudge.

  Roy glanced at the pair of leviathans that were swimming ahead of the ship. Burkos and Bermos, female and male respectively, were each three hundred feet long and were the largest of the saltwater croc species. He controlled them using the seventh of the seven rings of power he had earned in his short career. “I am not frowning at either. And eating vegetables will not change the fact that I am stuck out here in the middle of nowhere when I could be back in Zelos earning another ring.”

  At exactly six feet tall, she was the shortest person on the ship and the only one who had to look up to meet his eyes. Even though she was smaller and younger than he, she had earned nine rings of power! “Duke El Sidon doesn’t like having to meet the requirement imposed by Emperor Zeuller. Each Dukedom must provide power-wielders to serve in the Imperial Navy, all of Zeutha knows that, and so do you. Duchess El Doon feels the same way and so, like him, she sent a Nephi to represent Maarcia and your Duke sent you to represent Zelos. So we are both out here in the middle of nowhere serving our respective Dukedoms as well as the Zeuthan Empire, but that doesn’t mean we cannot earn a ring of power or two, even out in the middle of seemingly nowhere.”

  She extended the cluster and he plucked off a grape, chewed, and then swallowed before making his reply. “My father is an Anakim and my mother a Drudge, as was yours, so we are both as short as our Drudge heritage make us, an obvious sign of what we are, and that lineage starts us on the lowest level in the society of power-wielders,” he paused and plucked another grape. “The Musicians in Zelos play their Melodies and infuse them into the rings. I suppose it is the same in each Dukedom, since each one has their specialties and repertoires. Look around us, there is no Musician aboard to create new rings, and no Bestowers to award us any existing ones.”

  Up on the platforms of the seven towers, each one hundred feet from the deck, Quetzals rested on five of the platforms while Phodons circled in the air along with the Dactyls. The Phodons ranged from three and a half feet long with four foot wingspans to five feet long with seven foot wingspans, while the Dactyls were smaller and averaged a wingspan of about three and a half feet. Their giant cousins, the Quetzals, were huge with wings spanning anywhere from thirty-six to sixty feet, and they could carry a rider

  The Lucia had six Quetzals that used five of the towers, eight Phodons that perched on tower six whenever they wanted to rest, and fourteen Dactyls that used tower seven. Neither group tolerated the presence of the other on their tower. The Drudges called the beasts dragons and included the crocs and land-dwelling behemoths in the generalized term.

  Sarah glanced at tower three before answering his complaint. “Captain Lo Marzon is authorized to bestow rings of power if we impress him enough with our service. We could be the first to discover the source of the Spell Surges coming out of the east. They can only be the result of Extreme Intensity spell-casting. I can still feel the surges, although not as much as I did three days ago.” He felt them as well.

  A laugh escaped before Royan could stifle it. “That’s easy for you to say, the rider of RoseBud,” he said and glanced at the third tower where the Quetzal with its long, crested head, large eyes and a thin beak, was perched. Her wings were attached to the extra-long fourth finger on her arms. Her hatch-mate, Rigel, with a wingspan of thirty-six feet, shared the tower.

  Why in the world did the woman give that powerful creature the name RoseBud?

  He had no idea why, but did know Sarah was the smallest and lightest flyer and her air-steed was the swiftest, even though the Quetzal was far from the largest of the breed, having only a forty-five foot wingspan. The eighth ring, one of the four on Sarah’s right hand, gave her control of the splendid creature. The spell was infused in the lapis lazuli gem. “I can see where you could earn a ring and possibly be the first to discover the source of the Spell Surges and help fulfill one of the purposes of this voyage. You will soon be out scouting ahead while I’ll shortly be going below deck to take my turn at one of the great gems that power the wheels. Rings are not awarded for that kind of drudge work. Besides, even when this current mission is completed, we will still be on the Lucia for a year, maybe two.”

  The Duke would probably, gleefully, extend the tour of service of an insignificant Nephi, thus fulfilling the imperial requirement without losing the service of a Nephilim. The tour of duty could be extended indefinitely.

  Sarah tilted her head to the left as if to see him from a different angle and then smiled. “Who knows, your trident could change color. If your personal potential grows and turns amber or bronze, they would almost have to give you another ring.”

  She was clearly trying to lift his spirits, but did not seem to realize her encouragement had the opposite effect. She suggested his advancement would happen through the one thing no power-wielder had control of, the rate at which personal potential could grow. He smiled back, only because her smile was infectious. “If I manage to earn a ring from the Dukedom of Ky to increase my longevity, I might live long enough for my trident to change to silver or maybe gold.” An extra century or two might make it happen.

  “That’s the way to think. See, eating a few grapes rather than those nasty sardines you are so fond of has already improved your outlook.”

  He ate another grape, the last of the cluster. She reached into the left pocket of her Tricera-skin coat and removed a tiny cup of soil. A beam of light emanated from her fourth ring into the cup, moments later a vine began to grow, and soon produced another cluster of grapes. He removed his seventh ring. “Do you want to try it?”

  Her eyes widened. “I never thought I would see a Zelosan offer to let a Maarcian wear one of his specialized rings of power,” she replied and held out her free hand.

  It was the only specialized ring from his home dukedom he had managed to earn, the other six were identical to those worn by every other power-wielder, but he liked his fellow Nephi and figured allowing her to try it once could do no harm. “Just put it on for a little while and see what you can make the big ones do.”

  He took off the ring and handed it to her. She put it on and then went to the forward rail. A beam of light shot from the ring and flashed on the back of Burkos, who immediately dove down out of sight and then breached the surface in a jump that carried the leviathan most of the way out of the water before splashing down. She laughed while handing him back the ring. “That was fun. I wonder what it must be like to direct them in battle.”

  “It is exciting,” Royan had to admit. Working with the leviathans was the best part of his job.

  Her smile vanished as one of the Anakim came forward. Gunferd was eight and a half feet tall, in other words, of average height for his kind. His uniform was also made of Tricera-skin. He had no trident on his forehead but he did have the rank of Chief on his sleeves. “Scout Shareen, you have fifteen minutes to get to the top of tower three. Leviathan Wrangler Sylin, you have ten minutes to get to the Drive-room,” he informed briskly and then turned on his heel and walked away without saying anything else.

  Even at night the scouts flew, although not as far as in the daytime. In the Drive-room, night or day did not matter.

  Brutus Gunferd had red hair, a wide body, and a no nonsense demeanor. Nobody on the ship had beards or mustaches, and he was the one who enforced that rule, among upholding the many other regulations. He was of low birth and therefore had to show respect to any power-wielder, even a pair of Nephi, yet his rank guaranteed they would heed his words, or so he thought.

  Most of the crew was Anakim, including Captain Lo Marzon. Vice Count El Marzon was in charge of the mission and commanded twenty-six of the Nephilim, not the twenty-two assigned to the Lucia or the two Nephi. The men were cousins and both were born in the Dukedom
of Aresia. Lo, tacked onto the name meant a noble lineage but no extra energy in his life-force. El, tacked onto the name meant noble lineage with extra energy in his life-force. The nobles looked after their kin and thinking of it caused Roy to lose the good mood Sarah had slowly awakened in him. His lineage was filled with a long line of Anakim commoners and Drudges, of which there were millions. Any advancement that came his way would only be that which he worked hard to make happen, unlike some who had connections. He certainly was not going to get ahead by spending half his time in the Drive-room. “I am tempted to dive in the water and ride on the back of Burkos for a while. I am the only leviathan wrangler on the ship and they have plenty of Nephilim on board to power the wheels,” he told Sarah.

  She let out a long drawn-out sigh. “Important people are noticing your attitude. You should follow orders and cut down on the complaints or you might just find out what they can do. Some of the rings worn by the commanding Nephilim can cause pain without damaging the body of the recipient. Also ignoring orders, even those issued by an Anakim, will guarantee you will not earn any rings of power on this voyage.”

  He supposed she was correct about that. There were rings to take away pain so it was likely there would be rings that could cause pain. As to the rest of what she had said, it was difficult for him to pretend to be content when his true self was far from content. Wait, important people? “Are you warning me of something you have firsthand knowledge of, repeating rumor, or just trying to stop me from going for a swim and possibly getting into trouble?”

  She stared into his eyes for a moment and then answered, “The first and third.”

  Sarah went to tower three and Royan, although tempted to do otherwise, dove into the water, and sent a solidified lasso of air from his amber ring out toward Burkos, which he then used to help him stay on the leviathan as she swam through the water ahead of the Lucia. Surely they would not punish him too severely if he delayed for only an hour. He loved his leviathans and preferred to be with them, although Sarah had been good company. Whenever she returned from her scouting run, he could tell her whether or not there really were rings that could cause pain. He did not mind paying the price if it gave him more time with Burkos and Bermos.