Elephants loved their routines and their impatience to roam the grasslands was palpable to those who could read it. In friendly territory Prince Sharnipur would release them to wander and eat while the weary mercenaries and camp followers slept. But they could not slow their pace just yet. They would snatch a few hours of rest and continue their unrelenting march in the morning.
"Hungry, my boy?" The prince asked, his voice light and affectionate as he scratched Ranvir's side. Below him, the elephant rumbled in appreciation. Both men and elephants had just completed a lean campaign in the frozen north, with little to show for it. Now at least they could spend some time relaxing and fattening themselves up in the sunny grasslands.
But not the prince. He needed to secure a contract, and quickly. Prince Sharnipur slid off the great beast as the sounds of weary men and elephants broke the silence of the night. They had wagon loads of loot, food, and fodder, but he had seen before how soon it could be depleted. If they couldn't find a war to join, he might be forced to start one of his own, and that wouldn't do well for his reputation. That wouldn't do well at all.
A figure approached from the dark. Ajit, the captain of the Ranvir Guard, the foot soldiers who kept a continual presence around Ranvir. His eyes were red-rimmed but even exhausted he held himself high.
"We'll rest a few hours, Captain,” Prince Sharnipur said. “I know your men can handle the pace until we find a contract."
Ajit nodded. "What's our best option, Prince? Back to the chieftains of the Veldt?"
Prince Sharnipur shook his head. He had burned a trail of devastation through the Veldt and knew the Wastes were slim pickings at the best of times. "Perhaps we should ride to the Kintari border and make our presence felt. You never know, one of the clan leaders might make an attempt at seizing power."
The guard captain nodded and moved to help Sanjay as the lancer began unstrapping Ranvir's buckled howdah. Prince Sharnipur scratched his beard in thought as he weighed his options but they seemed to be quite limited indeed. Aside from that absolute debacle in the frozen north everywhere was just so damned peaceful...
Chapter Five
Lady Shinzen
“So what else have you heard about Prince Sharnipur?” Banisu asked Lin for the fourth time since he had joined the palanquin ride. Lord Karatsu the elder had offered to provide an escort and Banisu made the most of his friend’s company, the Saga of the Lotus Prince now forgotten, laying on the floor beside a couple stray lychees.
“Are you still going on about that?” Lin asked with a smile. The customary honorifics had fallen by the wayside an hour ago. “I heard he fought on the losing side up north. Not a good sign for a mercenary.”
Banisu nodded eagerly. “They have mammoths up there, right? Like elephants, but bigger and hairy?”
“I don’t know,” Lin said, shrugging and trailing off as the palanquin came to a halt. “Ugh, what’s going on here?”
Banisu slid the curtain open, squinting as the light came in, and stuck his head out to see what the delay was. Kintari soldiers ringed the palanquin and its four bearers but none made any move to urge Banisu’s curtain shut and so he leaned out even further.
“What is it?” Lin asked.
There seemed to be a traffic jam at an intersection caused by the departing Shinzen delegation. From atop an elephant at the head of the column Lord Shinzen himself was bellowing orders. He leaned over precariously from his howdah and gestured at one of his bullock drovers.
Stuck behind the traffic, Banisu and his palanquin could do little else but wait for the delegation to clear the road. Sour-faced farmers with wagonloads of rice waited in stoic silence at the side of the road. They knew the nobility took priority and had the good sense to keep their feelings about it to themselves.
At least Banisu had Lin to share the palanquin with. Lin and the elder Lord Karatsu had graciously offered to escort the emperor to the border of Kintari territory and that would be hours yet.
“Traffic jam,” Banisu said as he sat back down, the curtain still open. Lin scooted over and together they looked out at the scene. One elephant had peeled away, shielded by a troop of Shinzen spearmen in conical helmets and light cotton armor. Mounted in the elephant’s howdah was a woman of perhaps thirty who gestured with a fan for a bullock cart to clear the road. The howdah was draped with pennants in the Shinzen colors though Banisu also noticed a rack of javelins attached to the side.
“Who is that?” Banisu asked, staring at the dark-haired woman in the howdah.
“Ah, that's Lady Naowatara Shinzen. You may remember the gossip from a few years ago.”
Indeed, even in the secluded mountain monastery Banisu had heard of Lady Shinzen. Married to the unfortunate Danh Shinzen who had spent years pacifying a revolt of the Xhan-Su people. At the battle that had sealed his victory Danh Shinzen had been struck by a poisoned blowdart and perished in agony months later.
“After her husband’s death, the man’s younger brother married the widow Shinzen when he assumed the clan leadership,” Lin said in his ear. “Very peculiar! I don’t see why he married her. She’s no great beauty.”
“That is unkind,” Banisu muttered to his friend as Lady Shinzen’s elephant approached. Unkind and inaccurate. She smiled down at them as the elephant came to a stop before the palanquin.
“Emperor Banisu. It was a pleasure seeing you once again. You’ll have to visit us some time in Salawanswari. We feel so neglected.”
“I would like that, Lady Shinzen. You are always welcome to visit.” No matter what Abbot Cibu may say about that. Banisu glanced around but didn’t see the old monk nearby.
“It’s a very long trip for us to make,” Lady Shinzen said. “I suppose I won’t see you for another year. And then for your coronation after that.” She brushed a few stray hairs aside and glanced down the road ahead.
“Shinzen is a rough country. Nothing like the gentle plains of Kintari territory. It breeds toughness at least.”
Lin bristled beside Banisu and looked out the window. “Do not underestimate the folk of Kintari, Lady Shinzen.”
Lady Shinzen looked at him blankly. “Perhaps I misspoke. I intended no offense. I only mean that we are plagued by pirates, sickness, and jungle on all sides.”
Lin relaxed and nodded. “You have my sympathies, Lady Shinzen,” he said as he leaned back.
“Take care on your trip back,” Banisu said. “Are you not traveling with your husband?”
Lord Shinzen’s elephant was treading off in a different direction, wagons lined up behind him, and a hundred or more spearmen were formed up as a rearguard.
“No. I am off to hunt swamp dragons.”
Lin laughed. Lady Shinzen arched her eyes in puzzlement.
“I do not see what is funny. They infest the central territory and are a great menace to the villagers. Once they bite the wound festers and death is always imminent. Though they can be flushed out and their numbers thinned by javelin-hunting from an elephant.” She looked to Banisu. “Perhaps I will show you how it is done some time, Emperor. By your leave.”
Banisu nodded as Lady Shinzen’s elephant trudged past. Up ahead the column seemed to be lurching into motion once again, though it looked as if the Emperor’s palanquin would be trailing behind Lord Shinzen’s delegation for a while. Abbot Cibu strode back amid the commotion and waved for the palanquin to proceed along the path. Already dust was gathering in the air and Banisu blinked to clear his eyes.
Beside him Lin had turned around in the palanquin and continued staring at Lady Shinzen as her elephant faded into the distance. He shifted in his seat.
“Very peculiar.”
Chapter Six
Before the Storm
The two rows of dignitaries lined the aisle as Emperor Banisu walked down the rutted path leading to the Hangyul military docks, incense wafting from the steady swing of Abbot Cibu's censer. Banisu studied the tracks ahead of him. He was not used to seeing a dirt road even if it was heavily compacted a
nd leavened with smoothed rocks. For years Banisu had been kept in a small temple complex tucked away in a quiet forest, surrounded by walls and silent sentries.
Banisu himself spent most of his time indoors, learning calligraphy and religious customs from his appointed guardians, carefully sheltered from his subjects and only brought out for special occasions. Occasions such as this one, the anointing of the Sea Dragon for its maiden voyage. Which really just boiled down to poking a boat with a stick, mumbling a few words while Abbot Cibu waved his censer around, and catching a few glimpses of the subjects he supposedly commanded. Although if I ever actually tried commanding any subjects, my heroic guardsmen would rush to bundle me up back to the palace, and probably kill the poor peasants just for being commandable.
The press ahead brought an end to his musing. The procession had arrived at the secluded military docks and was now filing through a guarded entranceway. The guards stood at attention, eyes diplomatically averted from the Emperor and his retinue. Like all Hangyul soldiers, the guards were outfitted with black-lacquered conical helmets in the style of rice farmers, with a cuirass of boiled leather and iron lamellar over a simple white tunic. Passing through the gateway, Banisu could see that the docks were filled with soldiers in shining lacquer armor, as well as gawking sailors in simple tunics.
Although a few silk-robed bureaucrats were in attendance, the gathering had a distinctly martial air, one which differed greatly from most of the state functions the Emperor had attended. He recognized the stout Lord Marshal Feruke Hangyul heading a group of nobles and armored officers. Though Feruke Hangyul was in his sixties he still cut a powerful figure in his jade and black armor as he strode along with all the dignity of a man accustomed to obedience. As the procession wound through the single curving street, Banisu’s eyes widened as he saw the reason for his presence.
A meticulously carved dragon's head, with scales painted green and bulging eyes of white and black, adorned a curiously squat but otherwise unremarkable ship. The ship was shorter than the barges floating nearby, but the proud figurehead and sloping design indicated it was the newly built Sea Dragon. From the open mouth of the dragon ship a small caliber cannon poked out as if it were a black tongue. The ship was unlike any other Banisu had seen before, tied up against a jetty and sitting low in the tide with banks of oars sticking out like wooden wings.
The large pile of canvas nearby and the lack of a substantial civilian presence demonstrated Feruke Hangyul’s preference to keep this vessel a secret from the other clans. Still, though Banisu could be safely ignored on most occasions, it was customary for the Emperor to bless a new warship and so he had been fetched from his stately isolation.
The procession halted nearby, forming a rough semi-circle focused on the ship, with inquisitive soldiers and sailors lining up behind them. Abbot Cibu approached the dragon figurehead and turned around to face the assembly, Emperor Banisu mirroring his movements.
"Soldiers and sailors of Clan Hangyul, hear my words!" Abbot Cibu proclaimed, his deep and sonorous voice echoing off the nearby barracks buildings. "In ancient times the Sea Dragon Beppusagonsara rose forth from the Hidden Kingdom, laying waste to the Sky Kingdom until she was slain by the Lotus Prince. Beppusagonsara's fall into the Great Sea brought forth the rain and rivers that weave through the lands of the Three Clans today, spreading carp into the mountain lakes and frogs into the jungles. As the sutras tell us, Beppusagonsara's body was so large that when she sank under the waves the three largest spikes on her carapace remained, becoming what are now the volcanic islands of the Sagonsara chain. Well, our new Sea Dragon is not so large, but she also packs the dragon's fire, and will lead us to victory against any who oppose the Three Clans. Three cheers then! Hangyul, Kintari, and Shinzen!"
The onlookers loudly echoed his cheers, a respectful silence quickly falling once more. Feruke Hangyul frowned from amidst his retinue, doubtless irked at the glory of his own work being shared with his political rivals. The Lord Marshal’s personal guard took their cues from the irascible old man, imitating the Lord Marshal by remaining stiff and formal. Yet they were but a small patch of tranquility in the crowd of applauding Hangyul retainers. Banisu was sullenly mulling that there was no cheer for the Emperor when Abbot Cibu turned to him.
"Your Majesty, Emperor Banisu of the Three Clans, Supreme Pontiff, Long May He Reign."
Abbot Cibu bowed obsequiously, as he only did on formal state occasions. During this facade of a courtier's bow he still managed to point at the ship and give the Emperor the look of a weary tutor to an imbecile. His finger even waggled with the universal signal of “get on with it.” Banisu turned to the audience and tried with all his might to match Abbot Cibu's voice.
He failed. "Soldiers and sailors of Clan Hangyul! Um. The ship you see before you is indeed a mighty vessel. Long may it ride the waves with ferocious… um… prowess."
The first row of onlookers were leaning in as if straining to hear. Banisu took a deep breath.
"The Emperor blesses this vessel! It shall be the flagship of the Three Clans!" he announced squeakily, then strode through the cascading smoke of Abbot Cibu's censer and tapped his ceremonial staff upon the dragon's head.
"The Emperor blesses the Sea Dragon!" bellowed Abbot Cibu, and the crowd began to cheer. "I will now recite from the Saga of the Lotus Prince," the Monk added, lowering his censer to the ground, and beginning the tale of the fight with Beppusagonsara with a slow and deliberate cadence. Although Abbot Cibu had brought the Saga of the Lotus Prince, he did not deign to open the holy tome, confidently reciting the epic poem from his own memory. All monks, as well as emperors, were expected to memorize the sacred sutras, as Banisu was painfully aware.
As the scent of the incense intermixed with the tang of saltwater, the emperor took a moment to observe the sloping lines of the Sea Dragon. Like the Sagonsara islands, the Sea Dragon did have a series of metal spikes along its hull, probably to repel boarders. Feruke Hangyul was notorious for his frugality and would not waste precious iron merely for ceremonial purposes. The Sea Dragon had only one deck of oars, although the oars were tightly compacted and the ship was much longer than the two-decked barges flanking it, so that both styles of vessel had an apparently equal complement of rowers. Rather than a full second deck, there were small holes where the barrels of cannons jutted, and the sloping and spiked roof resembled the back of a dragon.
Abbot Cibu’s steady, reverberating voice began to draw to a close, the audience spellbound. Most of the onlookers were illiterate, and would have only heard a garbled version of the story from wandering monks or their grandparents, rather than a renowned orator such as Abbot Cibu. Abbot Cibu finally bowed his head, the discipline of the audience finally breaking into appreciative murmurs and scattered applause. Smiling broadly, Abbot Cibu picked up his censer, and the procession began reassembling for the journey back.
"Well said, Emperor," said Abbot Cibu, with a glance towards his ward, although he did not look sincere.
"Thank you… Abbot," Banisu replied, but Abbot Cibu was already walking forward. Banisu sighed, and hurried to join him, while making his best attempt to retain the aloof dignity his station demanded. Soldiers not much older than him stared in frank curiosity, only occasionally looking away when they remembered their stations.
“Why was this ship built, Abbot Cibu?” Banisu asked. He felt that this was something he should know.
“There has been a lot of piracy in the area, and this should go a long way to putting a stop to that.” The abbot gave a rare smile and leaned in close. “Actually, Feruke Hangyul has another trick. A merchant vessel with a regiment of soldiers below decks. I’d like to see one of those brigands like Black Bekhar or Xhe-San the Scimitar just try and capture that. Hah!”
Abbot Cibu leaned back and chuckled. It was one of the few times Banisu had seen the man show any sort of amusement, though the abbot’s face soon changed back to its customary stoic expression, and he nodded at the gathered officials i
n a dignified manner as they strode out of the encampment.
Drums began beating in a steady cadence and Banisu craned his neck to see the ships already sailing out to sea. The naval base was positioned along a tributary that fed into the sea along Clan Hangyul’s long coastline. From the stories he had heard, Banisu had no doubt the vessels would soon come across a foolhardy pirate.
As they left the port's gate, Abbot Cibu began talking to Banisu in a conversational tone. "It's not really the navy of the Three Clans, you know. Your Majesty. It’s Feruke Hangyul's navy, and it isn't like him to share. He wouldn't even let his own civilians see his ship! It's a fine-looking ship, but I do not think it is so special."
The emperor listened in silence as they approached the palanquin and the waiting collection of guards and jailers. He knew it wasn't really the navy of the Three Clans. It was only called that for form's sake. He looked at Abbot Cibu, striding along the dirt path, giving off every impression of contentment and serenity. Banisu knew he wasn't really the Emperor of the Three Clans either. He stared in gloom at the dirt road, shoulders slumped as he kicked a stray pebble aside. He was only called that for form's sake.
Chapter Seven
Piratical Parliamentary Procedures
The merchant ship bobbed up and down invitingly with each gentle wave. Black Bekhar grinned as he saw her, perched as he was on the mast of his pirate ship. Beside him his lookout chuckled in the morning light. It was he who had first spotted the ship. He turned to grace Bekhar with a gap-toothed grin of black and yellow and the aroma of a durian.
“Oh, what a sight! A fat ship like that just for the taking. And just a day after we took the merchant!”
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