Dark Empress

by S. J. A. Turney

  The thought of his childhood friend… love?... Darkened his mood further if that were at all possible. Grinding his teeth, he approached the gate. Two white-uniformed guards stepped forward, their spears and shields reflecting the brilliant sunlight and creating random spots of dazzling white that danced around the shadows as they moved.

  “Captain Ghassan of the Wind of God to see the governor.”

  “You have an appointment?” asked one of the soldiers, his northern accent thick.

  “No, but it is imperative that I see him urgently and, I fear, he will want to see me.”

  The guard nodded and then conferred with his companion in his own language for a moment before turning back.

  “Wait here.”

  Ghassan nodded and stood silently, his gaze wandering over the buildings both inside the compound and out as he waited for what seemed an eternity. The white-clad guard effectively ignored him, standing stiff and proud by the gate.

  With relief, perhaps five minutes later, Ghassan saw the guard emerge from a door on the far side of the compound and gesture, calling out. The guard in front of him gestured.

  “You go in now.”

  Ghassan saluted and marched across the compound. He had always hoped to see the inside of this place and now he found he couldn’t wait to get out of it. The closer he came to his meeting with the governor, the more convinced he became of the bleakness of the fate that awaited him. The new local governor in M’Dahz had seemed very straight and humourless at their last, brief meeting. Ghassan’s future career, livelihood, and even life, may well depend upon the decision or recommendation of this man. Ghassan realised he didn’t know the political structure enough to know how much power this lesser governor had when compared with that of the Provincial governor in Calphoris or his military commanders.

  His heart pounding, Ghassan reached the doorway and was ushered inside by the guard, who escorted him in silence up one of the flights of stairs that framed the main hall.

  The governor’s door was open and, as they approached, the white-clad guard gestured to him to enter. Making a futile gesture to tame the tangle of black curls on his head and straighten his jacket, Ghassan cleared his throat and entered the room.

  The occupant was a tall and well dressed man with a long nose and piercing eyes, a foreigner, sent from Velutio to take control of M’Dahz. He also had a dangerous look. Ghassan swallowed nervously.

  “Sir.” He came to attention and saluted.

  The governor turned and stood against his desk, crossing his legs as he leaned back and folding his arms.

  “Captain. I presume the news you bring is not good?”

  Ghassan shook his head and had to fight for the words, momentarily wishing he’d taken Samir up on his offer. Duty must be done, though.

  “I beg to report, my lord, the loss of the Wind of God and a small portion of her crew. Most of the men returned with me and await further instructions at the docks.”

  The governor tapped his finger on his lips.

  “I felt certain you had not made it to Velutio and back in this short time. Pray tell me what happened to the most renowned vessel in the Calphorian fleet and where your charge, the lady Asima, is at this time?”

  Ghassan swallowed again. There was an edge to the man’s voice that spoke volumes, regardless of his almost casual words.

  “Regretfully, sir, we fell prey to pirates.”

  He winced. This was a moment of defining character, he realised. Did he take on the full responsibility himself? The situation had been unfortunate and largely beyond his control. The truth was less noble and considerably less believable. But then, Asima deserved anything that life threw at her now… or that Ghassan threw.

  “The lady Asima, in an effort to prevent us achieving our mission, sabotaged the ship and left us unable to manoeuvre when the pirates appeared. We were not in a position to take them on, sir.”

  “And may I ask if you identified your attackers?”

  Ghassan sighed.

  “Yes, sir. It was captain Samir of the Dark Empress.”

  The governor nodded knowingly.

  “I’m sure you realise just how irregular all of this appears, captain Ghassan. I would normally have to decide between disciplinary courses of action to take against you for the loss of a ship and an important passenger. However, given that both said passenger and the captain of your attackers are old acquaintances of yours, other questions are raised and I fear that we have now surpassed my jurisdiction.”

  Ghassan nodded professionally.

  “I can see how this must appear, my lord…”

  “Be silent!” the governor hissed. “You will be very lucky to escape this debacle with your head on your shoulders, captain. At any rate, I will pass along my recommendation to my superiors in Calphoris that you be dishonourably discharged from the force without pay or benefits and possibly banished from the province.”

  Ghassan shook slightly, trying to hold himself straight.

  “Sir…”

  “That is all, captain Ghassan and be grateful that I am a merciful man. The lord who trained me in Velutio would have recommended execution for such a failure and given the dubious circumstances surrounding it.”

  Ghassan straightened and saluted.

  “Yessir.”

  The governor glared at him.

  “You have family in M’Dahz I believe? A home here? I’m sure I’ve seen it in the records.”

  Ghassan blinked for a moment, unsure of the answer.

  “There is a house that belonged to my mother if it still stands, sir. None of my family survived the occupation.”

  “Very well. We’ll have the address on file, no doubt. Go there and stay until you are ordered otherwise. I will send a courier to Calphoris with the news and ask for the Marshal’s recommendation. When it is given, I will send for you.”

  “Sir.”

  “And do not think about leaving the city. Your name and description will be given to the army and the port authorities. I am releasing you on your honour on the understanding that you are still currently a serving officer and that no decision has yet been made. Stay out of trouble until you are sent for.”

  Ghassan nodded and saluted.

  “Now go.”

  With a final salute, Ghassan turned on his heel and strode from the room. Without pausing or looking back, he marched down the stairs and across the hall; out through the doors and across the compound, into the plaza.

  Those occupants of M’Dahz he passed shied out of the way of his fierce gaze and gritted teeth. Depression and despair had given way to something else as Ghassan left the compound: angry determination and a cold certainty.

  There was only one way to make this right with his superiors. He would have to give them Samir on a platter and return Asima, unscathed, to answer for her own crimes.

  The baking sun hung suspended above M’Dahz and shone down on a town in flux. The end of a regime had lifted the spirits of the people and had brought back trade and life. Things were changing in M’Dahz and many of its lost children had returned home.

  And now, three of those children, repeatedly torn away from one another and thrown back together, changed beyond measure from the boys and girl who raced across the hot rooftops a lifetime ago, converged on their childhood playground.

  The pirate, the soldier and the princess were coming home, bringing schemes and plans with them.

  Part Four: My Enemy’s Enemy

  In which Samir goes home.

  M’Dahz looked just as it always had from the sea: a sprawl of tangled narrow streets and alleyways winding their way among white blocks as they snaked up the slope to the crest where the walls and towers of the governor’s palace complex stood proud of the lower roofs. Though in truth all they could smell on board the ‘Spirit of Redemption’ was the fresh, if salty, air of the sea, the mind filtered in the mixed aroma of spice and dung that they remembered from their youth.

  Samir sighed. They had been at se
a for more than two weeks, including the occasional stopovers in one port or another. Much as he hated to admit it, Samir found he rather liked the life of a legitimate merchant. While it was less exciting on a physical basis, the challenges inherent in business gave his mind something to work on even in quiet restful periods. Moreover, Asima played the Imperial noblewoman so well that she had charmed and impressed many otherwise shrewd traders into extremely favourable deals.

  No real surprise to Samir was it that his lady passenger was capable of taking on a role and playing it with no slip or hiccup, but on these occasions, her devious mind and slippery morals had played to the advantage of all concerned.

  And yet, with every hop between ports bringing them closer to their destination, Samir found that a cloud hung over his mood and darkened with every league they passed. Not only was a trip to M’Dahz not the most pleasant on his list of things to do, but this was where everything would change and each detail had to go well. He hoped in the name of whatever Gods were still interested in watching his hometown that he had not underestimated Asima. He doubted he had, but there was still a nagging doubt. He could nudge her in the right direction, but she was almost as subtle as he and she might just notice that.

  He turned and looked along the rail upon which they leaned, casting a non-committal glance at his passenger in her expensive northern-style dress. He had to admit that not only did she look the part, but she was extraordinarily alluring.

  “I’m never entirely happy coming back here” he said sadly.

  “It is a stinking hole” Asima nodded absently.

  “That’s not what I meant” Samir snapped at her. “I feel happy, sad, disappointed and angry all at once when I even look at the place. It tears me in too many directions at the same time. And, of course, with the path that I follow these days, I can never truly let my guard down when I’m here, so I’m also tense and jumpy.”

  “How long til we dock?” she asked.

  “Five minutes.”

  The woman nodded.

  “What will you do now?” Samir enquired.

  “I will sell on my few expensive items and find myself safe passage back to Pelasia. I shall have to avoid any contact with the governor or the military, though, as they’re the ones who sent me into exile across the sea. I expect I can find the right sort of people given a few hours.”

  “I have a little money put aside for you. You made us rather a good profit on the voyage, my lady of Velutio, so I thought a small token of our thanks might help you find your way safely to where you’re going as fast as possible.”

  Asima smiled.

  “Thank you, Samir. I will have to stay at least one night in the town, though. My father passed away a few years back and I’ve never had a chance to visit his grave, so I think I ought to take the opportunity while I’m here.”

  “Indeed. I considered visiting our old neighbourhood, but there are too many people in M’Dahz that might know or recognise me. Safer that I spend the night on board and venture no further than the docks. If you’re spending time in the town, perhaps you would look in at my mother’s house and pass on my regards to her ghost?”

  Asima nodded.

  “Of course.”

  The pair fell silent and watched the sprawl of M’Dahz drifting toward them. Minutes passed as the two, deep in thought, leaned on the rail, their eyes locked on their destination.

  “Prepare for docking!” a voice from the command deck called.

  Samir looked back up at his first officer who was also concentrating on the town ahead. The crew moved around them, preparing the mooring ropes, taking seats with the oars and furling sails. Samir barely paid them any attention, still carefully concentrating on figuring Asima’s likely activities.

  Straightening, he adjusted the tight and itchy Imperial green jacket and flattened his hair for neatness. Reaching down beside him, he undid the bag he’d brought out from his cabin, removed a leather wallet and then slung the bag over his shoulder.

  “Don’t let your act slip now, Asima.”

  She nodded and allowed her face to fall into the grave and serious mask she had worn so often over recent weeks. A few moments later, the ship came slowly alongside the jetty, the oars retreating within the hull and being set down as other sailors threw out the lines. Samir glanced along the wooden walkway to the small group awaiting them. Two of the town guard stood at the shoulders of a small, weasel-like man with a tablet and stylus, who was frowning at the new arrival.

  Carefully and diplomatically, Samir waited until the ship had come to a complete stop and the lines were being tied and then took Asima’s arm in a respectful fashion. As the sailors ran out the gangplank and lowered it to the jetty, Samir and his passenger stepped across to it. In the age-old manner of a captain with an honoured guest, he bowed to her and then slowly backed down the plank, holding his arm out before him for the lady to grasp.

  The board was slippery and Asima made a point of skittering once in her expensive slippers, just for the look of the thing. Samir almost smiled at that. Attention to detail; that was what made her good. It was also what made her dangerous.

  They alighted on the walkway and he escorted her forward, her hand on his arm, until they came to a halt before the group of men. Samir nodded his head professionally while Asima graced them with a superior smile.

  “Good morning captain… lady.”

  Samir smiled.

  “Good morning officer. May I present the lady Lyria, once of Calphoris and lately of Velutio.”

  The port official bowed seriously and then gestured at the ship with his stylus.

  “Your name, cargo and destination, as well as port of origin, captain?”

  Professionally, Samir nodded and passed the leather folder over. The official opened it, glanced briefly at the documents and turned the page to check the one below. Nodding, he passed it back and gestured with his stylus to go on.

  “Captain Halvus of the Spirit of Redemption, out of Velutio these past four weeks” Samir announced. “Varied cargo, mostly of fabrics and grain. Nothing restricted. We’re simply on one leg of our journey. From here we head for Calphoris in a day or two, then the ports of the east coast and up to Germalla before returning to Velutio.”

  As he spoke, the official nodded and made marks on his tablet.

  “Long journey, captain.”

  “Roundabout trip, keeping to coastlines for safety. Too many stories of pirates in your waters, I’m afraid, officer.”

  The official shot him a miserable look and then returned to his marking.

  “Sadly, you’re not the first to say that. At least you came, though. Many keep away altogether.”

  “Will you be wanting to do a search of the hold? No trouble, if so, but the lady will be staying on in M’Dahz for a few days to visit an acquaintance and I would like to have her escorted to meet her friends before we begin, so as not to inconvenience her too much.”

  The official looked Samir up and down and then smiled superciliously at Asima.

  “Everything appears to be in order, captain, so I think we can forgo such formalities. Welcome to M’Dahz, my lady. I hope you enjoy your time here. The town is in a state of extreme busyness at the moment. We are preparing for the first full-week festival since the city was freed and it will be rather a large celebration. I hope you can stay for it.”

  Asima smiled a dazzling smile at the man.

  “I shall make every effort to attend, sir.”

  He smiled at her once more and then lowered his face respectfully as he stepped aside. The two guardsmen bowed slightly and parted to clear the jetty.

  “Please, captain, after you.”

  Samir nodded and, arm still held out for Asima to grip, strode from the jetty onto dry land. Once they were safely out of earshot, Asima took a deep breath.

  “Dangerous, offering your hold to search.”

  “Openness and honesty is often rewarded, even if it’s faked. Much more dangerous to appear cagey and unwil
ling.”

  “Well” she said, squaring her shoulders, “I think you can safely leave me here, Samir. You don’t want to go too far into the city.”

  Samir shrugged.

  “I’ll escort you to the edge of the docks and to the town itself. Such would be expected of your escort.”

  The pair strode on for another minute, he leading her through the port as though she were unfamiliar with it, rather than knowing each stone and plank from youthful games. Presently, they reached the edge of the docks, where a delimiting stockade marked the beginning of the town proper. The gate stood open jammed with crates and was apparently rarely closed now, even at night. The pair of guards standing to either side of the gateway appeared bored to the point of stupefaction.

  Samir smiled. He had no intention of spending his time in M’Dahz lounging around on the ship, but what he was going to do depended at least partially on Asima’s next course of action.

  As they approached the gate, Samir fished in his jacket and withdrew a small pouch.

  “Here. Take this. It’ll hardly buy you a palace, but it’ll make your journey considerably easier.”

  Asima smiled and stopped, reaching out and grasping and pocketing the pouch.

  “Thank you, captain. I hope all goes well for you here and that when you return to your home port you achieve everything you dream of.”

  “I’m sure I shall, lady. Perhaps our paths will cross once again someday.”

  “Perhaps.”

  She gave him a warm and very forced smile, showing just a little hint of her desperation to depart.