Blood and Tempest

by Jon Skovron

  And that’s how it had always been. Ammon Set and Progul Bon, constantly clashing, fighting for dominance while still somehow trying to work together toward the common goal of protecting the empire. Chiffet Mek had been there through all that time, quietly observing, obeying as necessary, but careful never to side with one over the other.

  But those days were over now. Bon was dead. Ammon Set had broken one of the most sacred vows and wrested power from the imperial family. One could not be so forsworn and still expect life to heed your commands, so Set had lost his formidable powers as a biomancer. Chiffet Mek had told Pastinas that it was the ultimate sacrifice, and that Ammon Set would be forever revered for it. In that moment, he had believed it. Now, as he looked down at the dead body of the emperor, he wondered if he had been mistaken. Would Set be revered? Should he be?

  It occurred to Chiffet Mek then that, as newly appointed head of the Council of Biomancery, his own opinions actually mattered. If he disagreed with Ammon Set’s strategy, he had the power and authority to contest it. After so many years of deferring to him and Progul Bon without question, it was a strange thing to consider. But it would now be up to Chiffet Mek to determine the shape of the order in the years to come.

  He brushed a stray strand of white hair back from the dead emperor’s forehead as he considered this. What did he want for the order, and for the empire?

  “Mek!” Ammon Set’s voice rang from the next room. “What are you still doing in there? We don’t have time for sentimentality!”

  That was very true, thought Chiffet Mek. Sentimentality and old attachments would not be of much use to him in the future.

  “The future …”

  Chiffet Mek liked the sound of that word as it slid from his throat. After all, it was progress, above all else, that he valued most.

  The Black Rose of Paradise Circle sat alone in her cabin and polished her chainblade. It didn’t need to be polished, because she hadn’t used it in months. But it made her happy to do so. It was an odd feeling, really. Doing something just because she enjoyed it. That was something she hadn’t done in months either.

  The last half year or so had been lost to the darkness. She’d succumbed to it so fully, she’d even begun to forget there was anything else. But then Red had shown up and shaken things loose like he always did. It was that pissing mural of his, more than anything else. It had been like a lantern lighting up everything so it became crystal, and she could suddenly see for miles.

  Which wasn’t to say she’d gone back to being Nettles. Those days were over forever. But now at least she could look beyond the day-to-day survival. She could see something bigger and better out there. She could find a way for every wag of the Circle to not just be true and loyal, but also happy. Thanks to the odd friendships she’d made over the years—people who had challenged her and expanded her view of the world—she had something none of the previous ganglords did. She had vision. So she had resolved to drag not just herself out of the darkness, but all of downtown New Laven with her.

  There was a knock on the door.

  “Nearly there, Rose,” said Ruby Raw, a mousy little thing who’d been with Hope at Dawn’s Light.

  The Black Rose planned to thank Hope for that one of these days. Not many of her wags had come back from that crusade. But those that did had steel in their bones, salt water in their veins, and were worth five regular wags.

  “Thanks,” she told Ruby.

  She coiled her chainblade and headed up the narrow stairs to the deck. The Never You Mind was a fine vessel, bigger than the Kraken Hunter and faster than the Glorybound. It had a full three masts—the only one in the Black Rose’s small fleet. It didn’t have a great deal of firepower, since it was a merchant ship rather than a military vessel, but as the Black Rose understood it, this would be more of a land fight anyway, and a merchant ship’s hold could fit a lot of wags.

  Most of those wags were gathered on the deck now. The Black Rose walked through them, feeling their tense eagerness. They’d come to fight some imps, and they were hungry for it. But even wound as tight as they were, they all moved aside respectfully to let the Black Rose pass.

  The quarterdeck was much less crowded. Crate Allen was at the helm, and Captain Strongjaw stood next to him. They were both big, solid wags, and yet they looked uneasy, perhaps even a little fearful, in the presence of their guest, Lady Merivale Hempist.

  The Black Rose found Merivale to be a real puzzle. On the outside, she seemed the laciest lacy who’d ever dabbed her nose with orange powder. But the Black Rose had caught glimpses of something harder than steel underneath. She didn’t know how a person could be both those things at once, but she was fascinated, and more than a little leaky for her.

  She didn’t trust Merivale, of course. The lacy molly had a disinterested air about her that some might confuse for indifference, but the Black Rose suspected was because she was already ten steps ahead of everyone else. A schemer to her core. Not that there was anything wrong with that. Initially, the Black Rose had been surprised and a little uneasy that Merivale had been so eager to support her cause before the empress. But after she’d spoken to her awhile, she realized it wasn’t out of some fickle pity, but because it coincided with one of Merivale’s own schemes. And that was exactly the sort of reasoning the Black Rose could rely on. At least for as long as their two schemes worked together.

  “We should be coming in sight of the outer docks in a few minutes,” Strongjaw told her.

  “I doubt we’ll see any resistance there,” said Merivale. “But once we reach the inner docks near the Thunder Gate, we should expect a strong show of force.”

  “My wags will be ready,” said the Black Rose. “You’re sure there will be some imps who join our side once we make land? I don’t relish taking on the entire island.”

  “Some will defect to us the moment they see me,” Merivale said. “And once we secure the prince, I expect the majority will rally behind him.”

  “Assuming he’s still alive,” said the Black Rose.

  “I have another ally on the inside who is keeping him safe.”

  “What if she can’t?” asked the Black Rose.

  “In the unlikely event that the prince is killed, we’d either have to stage a coup of our own or else seek asylum in Aukbontar. Because trust me, an empire ruled by Ammon Set isn’t a place either of us want to live.”

  “So getting to the prince will be our priority, then,” said the Black Rose. “Instead of trying to hold any ground we take, we’ll just batter through until we get to the palace and hope to God your ally still has him safe.”

  “A sound plan,” said Merivale. “And I shouldn’t worry too much about my ally. The ambassador of Aukbontar has proven in many ways to be as formidable as myself.”

  The Black Rose grinned at her. “I reckon coming from you that’s the highest compliment someone can get.”

  “True,” admitted Merivale.

  They watched quietly as the coast slid by along the port side. Finally they reached the opening of the bay, which was lined on either side with thick, sturdy docks that could withstand the harder currents out here. The last time the Black Rose had sailed past them, they’d been crowded with masts, but now there wasn’t a single ship to be seen. Most likely, the merchants and traders had seen what was coming and fled to friendlier islands. Friendly for now, anyway.

  As the Never You Mind neared the inner docks and the city beyond, the Black Rose saw puffs of smoke and flashes of gunfire. She took Strongjaw’s spyglass to have a look.

  “Two groups of imps are fighting each other along the dock,” she said. “I reckon one of them is on our side?”

  “Presumably,” sad Merivale. “I have men planted in several squads and told them to urge their fellows to meet us down here.”

  “We don’t want to kill them if we can help it, then,” said the Black Rose. She turned to Strongjaw. “Fire a warning shot. The ones with us will hopefully be smart enough to scatter. Once they do,
send mortars up along that main street as far as they’ll reach to clear us a path.”

  “Aye, Black Rose.” Then Strongjaw began shouting brisk orders to his crew.

  A few minutes later, the Never You Mind sent a cannonball skipping up the bay to smash loudly into a piece of unoccupied dock. The soldiers all paused for a moment and looked at the incoming ship. The ones on the left side suddenly disbursed, melting into the nearby buildings.

  “Okay, they’re clear,” said the Black Rose. “Shell the rest into whatever hell awaits them.”

  Strongjaw gave the order, and there was a string of blasts. For a moment, the sky looked like it had caught on fire. Then it all came crashing down on the horrified soldiers. The mortars cut their numbers in half, but the rest stood their ground and readied themselves to repel the invading ship.

  “This is it, my wags!” the Black Rose yelled to the toms and mollies on the main deck. “You all know what we’re doing here and why. This isn’t just for us, but for our children, and our children’s children. This is for all the true wags now and in the future. So hold nothing back!”

  A line of wags along the gunwale fired rifles to lay down some cover fire. In the cloud of smoke that followed, the whole ship emptied out. Wags spilled over the side and onto the dock, charging headlong into the soldiers.

  The toms and mollies had been cooped up on a ship for far too long, and the sudden release was like an explosion. The orderly ranks of soldiers faltered when they saw the howling wave of chaos descending on them. That moment of hesitation was their undoing, and those true wags of the Circle shredded that line of imps like a cheese grater. And in the thickest part was the Black Rose, urging them all on as she whipped her chainblade at anything dressed in white and gold.

  It didn’t take long before the remaining imps broke and ran. That was when Merivale, who had hung back until then, came forward and spoke into a silver bullhorn that amplified her voice.

  “All those still loyal to Prince Leston, join us against the biomancers!”

  The imps who had been hiding in nearby buildings along the edge of the docks began to emerge.

  “Now is the time for all people, rich and poor, soldier and worker, to come together to save their empire from the biomancers,” Merivale shouted through the bullhorn. “Follow us to free Prince Leston, rightful emperor of the Storm!”

  The imps cheered and came closer as if drawn to Merivale like some spell.

  The Black Rose could feel her people getting nervous.

  “Easy, my wags,” she told them. “It’s like the lady says. We work together on this one. The biomancers have gone so far this time, even the imps are on our side.”

  She’d told them all this before, of course, but now that it came to the reality, she could see them struggling to accept it.

  “Don’t you remember how crazy it sounded, us working with Hammer Point?” she pressed. “But we did it, and we didn’t lose nothing of ourselves in the process. I promise you this will be the same, except this time, it’ll be the imps owing us one. And won’t that be sunny? Now, follow me.”

  It wasn’t long before the Black Rose found herself at the head of another mob, this one even more conflicted, but with a purpose so clear and true, nobody could doubt it.

  “Save the prince!” shouted Merivale into her bullhorn.

  “Death to the biomancers!” the Black Rose shouted.

  “Save the prince and death to the biomancers!” was the reply.

  Of all the roles that Lady Merivale Hempist had played over the years, commanding soldiers had never been one of them. But soldiers needed direction and purpose, and she had plenty of that. Combined with the Black Rose’s natural, earthy charisma, it was easy enough to bring soldiers and criminals together.

  As the strange army continued up the street toward the palace, they encountered pockets of soldiers loyal to Tramasta. Each time, she would step back and let the fighters fight, and when they were victorious, she would praise them and urge them on again toward the palace. She noticed their army continued to grow as they went. A few of Tramasta’s soldiers had a change of heart, or perhaps merely saw the inevitable turn of the tide. But she was surprised to see regular townsfolk also take up arms. Maybe it was the already motley appearance of their army that made them feel welcome to join. And, of course, the people of Stonepeak had always had a soft spot for their earnest young prince. At this point, Merivale felt that training and skill were less important than sheer numbers, so the bigger her army, the better.

  “I didn’t expect quite so many of the townspeople to join us,” she confessed to the Black Rose as they continued their march toward the palace.

  “Look around us, Merivale.” The Black Rose had made it clear at the very beginning that she had no patience for titles and would only refer to Merivale by her first name. “All these broken windows and charred stones. Ammon Set already sent imps in here to scare ’em and I reckon it worked well enough. But he also gave them more reason to side with us. As far as some of these folks are concerned, they’re simply defending their homes.”

  The town of Stonepeak had always seemed a little shabby and squalid to Merivale, so she hadn’t noticed the difference, but now that it had been pointed out to her, the recent damage was obvious. Merivale decided she could gain a great deal of valuable perspective from this vulgar little woman. It was downright humbling. Fortunately, Merivale’s ego was not so delicate that it couldn’t withstand some additional tempering.

  “An excellent point,” she said.

  The Black Rose nodded. “What I don’t understand is why the biomancers haven’t joined the fight. Even with these numbers, we’d be hurting bad if they did.”

  “First, there aren’t nearly as many as there used to be, thanks to the culling your friends Bleak Hope and Brigga Lin did last year. And second, the biomancers have all sworn to serve the emperor. So until Ammon Set is legitimized, they have to stay out of it or risk breaking their oath.”

  “So what do they need to do to legitimize Ammon Set?”

  “There will need to be a coronation ceremony. But before that, all other contenders for the title must be eliminated.”

  “Which means killing the prince.”

  “Precisely.”

  The Black Rose nodded. “We better go rescue him, then.” She turned back to her men. “All right, wags! Let’s hurry to the palace! And let no one stand in our way!”

  As Merivale had expected, the majority of Tramasta’s forces were still concentrated in the palace. He and Ammon Set would want to secure their base completely before making a concentrated effort to expand. Once they held the palace and Leston was dead, they could perform the coronation ceremony. With the addition of the biomancers, they would easily dominate the rest of Stonepeak and beyond.

  “I take it you have a plan to get us inside,” the Black Rose observed when they reached the closed iron gates of the palace.

  “Naturally,” said Merivale.

  No doubt the soldiers at the Lightning Gate had orders not to let anyone through. Fortunately, those soldiers were fiercely loyal to Captain Murkton, and he’d given them instructions to open the gate to Merivale before he left for Sunset Point.

  When she and the Black Rose arrived with the motley army at their back, the soldier on watch waved down to them.

  “How does the captain fare, my lady?”

  “Alive and well,” she called up to him. “For his valor, I have given him the honor of keeping Her Majesty safe during this time of conflict.”

  “It’s always heartening to hear a great man recognized,” said the soldier. Then he signaled down to the gatekeepers, and the iron lattice slowly lifted.

  “That was easy enough,” said the Black Rose.

  “That wasn’t the hard part.” Merivale pointed to the large battalion of soldiers hurrying out from deeper in the courtyard, shouting curses as they pulled on their coats and hastily loaded their rifles.

  “Let’s get to it, my wags!” the Bla
ck Rose shouted to the crowds behind her. “This is the one that counts!”

  They rushed through the gates and soon the courtyard was filled with the sounds of gunfire. Both sides scattered, seeking cover behind wagons, carriages, and anything else that might stop a bullet. But there wasn’t nearly enough to hide even half the people in the courtyard, and soon people were dropping on both sides. The soldiers were better organized, but Merivale thought she could sense their doubt and confusion. Who, exactly, were they fighting for if the emperor was dead? Perhaps they had been told they were protecting Leston? Or perhaps they had been told nothing at all and were merely reacting to armed aggression. In either case, they did not seem confident.

  The Black Rose’s people, on the other hand, were filled with a confidence that bordered on madness. She had convinced her people that this was the key to a better life not just for them, but for their family and loved ones. That they were reshaping the very landscape of the empire. And she wasn’t wrong.

  As the battle raged on, the soldiers began to fall back. The Black Rose’s people were more than just ferocious fighters. It was becoming increasingly clear that they were just as skilled in the use of firearms as the imperial troops. What sort of place must Paradise Circle be, if everyone there knew how to properly shoot a gun? Merivale wondered. And what sort of place might those people make the empire into if they had a say in its government? It was a fascinating question to ponder, but unfortunately, there were a great many things that needed to be taken care of first.

  “You and I will take a small group around to a side entrance,” Merivale told the Black Rose. “We must secure the prince as quickly as possible. We might even be able to stop this battle before everyone’s dead.”