Nathan shook his head. “No, but this time I’m going with you. Colonel or not, he owes me some answers.”
Sam felt better knowing he wasn’t going to face the stern commander alone this time. He smiled and clasped Nathaniel’s wrist and stood. “You are a valued friend, Nathan.”
“If you are truly the one who will right this world, Samuel Gale, then I will do everything I can to make sure you are free to do so.”
The two men dressed and presented themselves to be escorted through the camp to the other large tent. When the flaps were drawn and the two walked inside, what awaited them was not what they were expecting. Inside, garbed in elaborate, polished armor and purple capes were Royal Guardsmen, the kind of which Nathaniel had commanded in Cortendale. At the central table, Colonel Miller dressed in armor and a red cape was addressing a tall woman with short cut silver hair. She had angel wings carved into her shoulder guards, the kingdom’s seal adorning her breastplate. She took the air from the room, staring at Samuel with a soul sucking hazel eye, the kind of which that could stare down a charging bull and stop it in its tracks. Her left eye, glossed over with blindness, tracked him like a monocle for Spectre himself. She was older, wizened, intimidating. She crossed her arms before her as she looked across the table at the two. “Samuel Gale, Guardian of the Wind. We meet at last.”
Nathaniel immediately crossed his arm over his chest and bowed his head. “General Sillis! I… we are honored.”
Sillis hung her arms behind her and paced towards them around the table. “At ease, Captain Whitespell. I would like to speak with the young man from Cortendale… alone.”
Sillis turned her head so that she could see Colonel Miller out of the corner of her eye. The man’s face flushed red and Sam could almost hear him growl, dismissed from his own command tent with nothing more than a look. He straightened himself, gave a curt nod out of respect, and turned on his heel. The guards Sillis had brought with her left out of the various exits, Nathaniel smiling and placing a hand on Sam’s shoulder before he too left the tent. That was a good sign, Sam guessed. If Nathaniel was suddenly upbeat, maybe this General Sillis could help them.
The older woman’s expression never changed as she walked towards the Guardian, her hands still behind her in a stout and professional manner. “Before we begin let’s both agree to be honest with each other shall we? I did not come all this way to entertain wild fantasies,” she said.
Sam nodded and Sillis nodded back. “Good. I propose a trade of questions. I ask one, you answer. Then in turn you may ask anything of me, and I will answer.”
Sam nodded again, Sillis nodding back. “Excellent. Are you indeed the Guardian of the Wind, not some charlatan?”
“I am. If I had my weapon I could prove it,” Sam answered truthfully.
Sillis motioned to a nearby table. “It’s there, along with the other items seized from your travelling partners. Very impressive weapon I must say.”
Sam looked towards his items, feeling a bit more at ease now that he knew where they were. “May I have it back?” He asked, knowing it was his turn.
Sillis pursed her lips. “Not just yet. I haven’t decided if you are a threat or not.”
“I’m no threat to you or your men!” Sam responded defensively.
Sillis’ eyebrows rose at his hostile reply. “That wasn’t a question. You aren’t helping your case.”
Sam relaxed with a sigh. Sillis began to pace around Sam in a circle. “Last reports I received, stated the Guardian of the Wind was middle to late aged, living out his days in some self-appointed exile in Cortendale. Seeing as you are young and from the same area I can only surmise you are somehow related. Is that true?”
“Yes,” Sam answered, suddenly saddened, “you are speaking of Ajax Gale, my father. He’s dead.”
Sillis nodded and awaited Sam’s question. “Why am I perceived as a threat?”
“You have caused quite a stir in the southern province, Samuel Gale. Regardless of your intentions, the people spread the tales of your exploits further and further every day. They love you and the things you are doing. In a time where the people may be questioning the leadership of their King, an outside influence can be extremely detrimental to the Royal Family’s continued rule.”
“So I’m some sort of political prisoner?!?” Sam asked flabbergasted. “I haven’t made any actions against the Royal…”
Sillis cut him off with a tsk tsk tsk from her teeth. “Not your turn, Guardian of the Wind. You are really bad at this.”
“Enough games!” Sam yelled. “I haven’t done anything to endanger the Royal Family or the kingdom. All I’ve been doing is help in the war against Cain!”
Two of the heavily armored guards came rushing through the doors at the sound of yelling, but Sillis dismissed them with a wave of her hand. She leaned close to Sam’s face and spoke in almost a whisper. “You are in way over your head here, young man. The capital is nothing like the small town you come from. Its masses not so easily swayed by heroics and selfless deeds. There are powerful people there, the kind who get nervous when things change. You’d be wise to learn some subtlety… quickly.”
Sam sighed greatly as he fought back his temper. Sillis smirked as he did so. “Good boy.”
“It’s your turn,” Sam stated flatly.
Sillis nodded. “Last question. What are your intentions in the capital? We both know that is where you are headed.”
“To speak to the king. I need his help,” Sam replied.
“Well, you’re in luck young man,” Sillis said, grabbing Windrider and tossing it to Sam, “because the King sent me here to collect you, and he’s anxious to meet you as well.”
Sam caught his blade and his anger subsided into confusion. He looked at Sillis with wide eyes and the older general looked back at him as if waiting for something. “Your last question…” She stated.
Sam had too many to pick just one. He stood there, bewildered and thrown off guard. Sillis had said the people of the capital were not easily swayed. He had seen evidence of such treatment from Colonel Miller and the soldiers. His confidence in his abilities to convince the king to help him was starting to waver. He didn’t know why one question amongst hundreds fell from his mouth, but he surprised himself when he blurted, “What’s going to happen to me?”
Sillis put a comforting hand on his shoulder and her eyebrows rose again, as if Sam already knew the answer as she spoke it. “That, young Guardian, is entirely up to you…”
* * *
They had been moved so fast, Sam and the others barely had enough time to register what was happening. Within a few hours, the group had been collected, their items returned to them, their horses gathered, and then escorted along a road towards another town. The parade of heavily armored guards and carts loaded with food was expertly executed and before they knew it they had travelled several miles and were boarding ships on a shoreline. Sam could smell the salty air, the breeze coming in from the foamy waves and blowing past his cheek with a gentle caress. David was astounded. “It’s Loch Karimire,” He stated in wonderment.
As usual, the apprentice was right. The great lake was stretched out before them as far as their eyes could see. The loch was fed from the sea, making it a huge salt water inlet a number of miles in diameter and deep enough to hold most of the kingdom’s seafaring navy. The ships were strategically anchored at various positions, not close enough to be easily picked off but still within range to allow efficient communication. Far off in the distance, twinkling in the sunlight, was the Jewel of the Surf, the capital of their kingdom, Lochmare. Perched on the water, looking like a horse galloping across the waves (hence how it got its name), the city had been created over the foundations of an Aquifer fort. The sheer size of the city made it seem almost impossible that it could sit in the middle of a great lake, but no matter how far the city expanded, engineers continued to find that the old aquifer foundations held firm. As it was impossible to see how far down the stonework went
, adding onto the original structure was out of the question. As a solution, various developers over the centuries had simply built supports and pontoons that extended out from the central stone ruins to the outer boroughs. These supports were structurally sound enough, with boardwalks and smaller buildings crafted over the planks that constituted as the ground. These outlying boroughs tended to be the poorer boroughs, as living on the water wasn’t as safe as living on the stone interior of the city. The houses were smaller in order to not overextend weight capacity, and in storms when the water was choppy the waves tended to splash up through the floorboards and into residents' living rooms.
The interior of the city was much more elaborate. Grand mansions, a Cathedral for the Light, even a coliseum made of marble dotted the interior. Massive, multi-storied government buildings, soldier barracks, and concert halls sat strategically throughout the central borough and in the center of it all, the senate building and the palace grounds. Being that the central borough was on the site of the old fort, a large guard wall raised five stories around its exterior, effectively separating them from the outlying neighborhoods.
The group’s horses were corralled into a large wooden subdeck and the guards ushered the adventurers to the top of the ship, where the nine of them could watch the waves splash against the wooden craft. Daisy, Haven’s dog, ran up and down the length of the ship, barking playfully at water that breached the railing and splashed onto the deck.
General Sillis was busy giving instructions and looking over reports during the short voyage across Loch Karimire. Sam still couldn’t get a read on her. Nathaniel seemed to trust her, the blonde haired Captain more at ease now that they were away from Colonel Miller and back with the Royal Guard. She had an odd way of providing help however. The game she and Sam had played in the command tent seemed more like a test than an interview. Did Sillis have the intention of helping him from the beginning? Sam was starting to notice a pattern. Everywhere he went, people were lining up to provide aid. High Enchanter Drakona, Haven’s grandfather Joseph Mannel, General Sillis, Talbot Tucker, and the Aidyn’s father Charles. Sam could see why the latter might bend over backwards for him, but the others didn’t carry as much reason to assist him. The Guardian was getting the distinct feeling there was something deeper going on. What was it that Colonel Miller had said? The Dark One isn’t the only one with a network of spies. After tumbling the idea over and over in his head, Sam decided to chalk his suspicions up to paranoia after being detained. It benefitted everyone, not just the humans, if his quest succeeded. Maybe some just understood that better than most.
As their vessel rounded to dock in one of the outlying boroughs, Sam followed the instructions given to him by his escorts. He mounted his steed, stuck close to those in front of him, and lost himself in the sights of the big city.
Lochmare was, by all accounts, massive. Each borough held within its boundaries nearly the same population of the Cortendale Valley, roughly two thousand each. Beings of every race imaginable could be seen bartering, shopping, smithing, and the like in each neighborhood. Sam saw many of the Sprite’s races for the very first time in his life, each pointed out by the Whitespell siblings, their impromptu tour guides. There was a pair of stout dwarves, each standing only four feet tall with brown beards stretching as far as their plump bellies, who were arguing over who could belch the loudest. A centaur merchant from the plains selling saddles, blankets, and bags for horses; claiming he was not only a salesman, but also a satisfied customer. Sam saw a booth where a Gatoan, the cat-like people of the sands to the north, tried to persuade a young Elven couple that their wardrobes were too drab. Her sales pitch was interrupted every few minutes by the drunken human sailors in the outdoor tavern next door making what many referred to as “Cat Calls”. Their convoy of horses continued down the docks, even as a fifteen-foot-tall Wildman from the snowy lands stepped over them, vibrating the boardwalk every time a massive foot came down. Haven smiled towards her brother as they both watched the mountain of a man continue down the road, “It looks like Sven lost weight!” She exclaimed.
“Yeah, he had to sell his warehouse and move onto a frigate for use as a house boat. He was taking up nearly three square blocks of space,” Nathan relayed. “He probably lost the weight to fit in the boat.”
Sam, April, and David’s faces were a mixture of child-like curiosity and downright astonishment. Even though Lochmare was a human kingdom’s capital, its residents were of most every race on the face of Teva. No wonder they demanded so much of the valley by way of food, and how much in danger they were of starving now that the valley had been attacked. Sam saw people purchasing any scrap of food they could find by the cartload. Fish markets couldn’t keep their shelves stocked while bakeries were going out of business. The poorest laid in the streets, panhandling and withering away. All the while a feeling of fear and tension stuck in the air like a thick fog bank. Lochmare was on the brink of complete disarray. Suddenly the tight control of the military wasn’t looking so tyrannical, but necessary.
“The city is divided into thirteen boroughs,” Haven explained to the three, “Each one named for an element.”
“The capital is in the center, within the walls. The twelve others circulate around it like the face of a clock,” Nathan elaborated.
“Does each borough only house one race?” David asked.
“Oh not anymore,” Haven shook her head. “In the old days each race was confined to their sector, but that rule hasn’t been enforced for a few hundred years. As the city expanded and space became more limited, some folk started moving into the less populated boroughs. Some boroughs still have a lot of their original inhabitants, like the humans, elves, and dwarfs. Others like the Wildman, Gatoen, and the like have pretty diverse populations because they never had many living in their boroughs in the first place.”
“There’s still a lot of prejudice in some places, for example; you won’t see the dwarves or the elves living in each other’s areas. The poor Shadow District between them has been a battleground for gang violence since the city’s founding,” Nathan stated.
“Who stops the violence? The Army?” Sam asked.
“Actually Lochmare has its own police force,” Nathan explained. “Only organization in the civilized world that is a mixture of every race working for a common goal. It’s something the residents of the city are really proud of and the officers get a lot of respect.”
Sam liked the sound of that. An armed force made up of representatives from every walk of life, all working together for a common goal, the safety of their families and neighbors. Lochmare was their city, and they were the ones who would keep it safe. Nathan went on to say the army normally only patrolled the central borough, where the government of Lochkary presided. They were only supplementing Lochmare’s police for the time being because of the famine.
The Royal Guard and General Sillis led the group towards the wall surrounding the central borough. A bridge brought them to a massive iron gate, in the expanse below them Sam could see the enormous metal hinges that held the boroughs to the stone foundations of the old fort. The neighborhood, on its pontoon, rose and fell with the waves, the salty water spraying up to splash them. At an iron portcullis a soldier checked their credentials, saluted the General and Nathaniel respectfully, and yelled for his comrades inside to open the passage. In desperate times such as these, no one was above scrutiny; even General Sillis’ records and orders were checked.
The stark contrast between the outlying boroughs and the central neighborhood was like comparing a rabid dog to a champion purebred. The cobble stoned streets were clean and professional. Elaborately dressed men and women lined the sidewalks, talking in gentle tones about parties, fashion, and other such frivolous affairs. Sam noticed kind greetings being exchanged, smiles across people’s faces, and more evident than anything was the total absence of any race other than humans. Sam’s preconceptions of the capital being snobbish and self-absorbed were coming back to the forefro
nt of his mind. Any allowance he had given Lochmare as he rode through the diverse outlying boroughs was swept away. The people of the central district looked happy, well-fed, and taken care of. What was worse, they didn’t even seem aware of the suffering of those outside the wall or in the rest of the kingdom. The war didn’t seem to be felt here in the slightest, which only made Sam and April fume with anger. “These people seem oblivious to anything outside,” April spoke what many of them were thinking.
“They can afford to be,” Sam stated, his words laced with contempt.
“Most of the rich live here,” Nathan proclaimed. “Landowners, mining lords, older nobility. They concern themselves mostly with the intricacies of court and politics.”
“Do they have any pull with the King or the Senate?” David asked.
“Not as much as they would like,” Nathan smirked. “His Highness has a very good ear to what the people need, but he can only do so much. A lot of the decisions come from the Senate, and they’ve been deadlocked since the war began on issues of the interior.”
“In the meantime, the nobles entertain themselves with lavish parties and social agendas,” Haven added.
Sam shook his head as he watched a few women fawning over one having just bought a piece of jewelry that could probably feed a family of six for a year. “They should give that money to those who need it. When one suffers, we all suffer.”
“This isn’t the valley, Sammy,” Haven replied almost apologetically. “Things are more complex here.”
Ashtock grunted. “Nothing is given, everything is earned. The poor are poor because they choose to be.”
“Enough,” General Sillis stated, casting a side glance towards them from the front of the group. Her dead eye spurred no further argument from anyone. They rode in silence for the remainder of the trip to the palace.
When the elaborately decorated gates were opened into the palace grounds, the group’s political stances were forgotten. The sheer magnificence of the oldest building in the city was something to behold. The palace was U shaped, with the arms extending towards them and wrapping around the gardens like a comforting mother would her children. Three stories tall with countless glass windows, the entire façade was made of decorated marble. Intricate, hand carved fringing travelled the expanse of the roof and around each window and doorway. Decorative ivy hung from the dark iron fencing around the borders of the roof and a large rotunda rose above the main entrance at the bottom of the U. An elaborate, clock faced stain glass window hung just above the grand entrance double doors, the city of Lochmare depicted in detail behind a massive Lochkary national seal.
Jewel of the Surf Page 4