Stormcallers: Chapter 13

For two days the Prezon sailed along the coast of Norrholt, past the cliffs of Cast, beyond the Autumn Wall, and on to Greater Norrholt and the united Herathian Empire. Their supplies continued to dwindle, and the crew’s grumbling became louder than before. The Captain punished several of his crew for insubordinate talk, though this only stilled their tongues. Phalamili could still see their spiteful hearts in the movements of their bodies, their squared shoulders, and their darting eyes. Phalamili kept her distance as best she could, weathering the abusive blows and bitter words while cleaning the deck and fetching food.

When her duties were finished, she tried to learn Erosean letters and numbers. Though at first confusing, she soon grasped the core of it, and understood simpler writing and arithmetic.

The rest of her time was spent watching the lands of Norrholt as they passed. She had never seen foreign land before, and was determined not to miss a single hill or tree.

The edge remained thick and cliff-like. Periodically, a loud crack would echo from the distance, and a large boulder or avalanche of rocks would tumble free from the edge and fall into the cloud-sea below. The forests and hills, from so far away, served only to remind her of the twin isles of Orem and Oleni. Here and there were Herds of wild horses, and farms with flocks of thick bison-like animals with pale skin and blunted horns.

In the middle of the second day, Phalamili spied on the shores of Cast ahead of them a massive wall, at least twenty times the height of any man. Even from so far away, Phalamili could see it reach through the hills, stretching towards the distant mountains. Phalamili could see, even from such a distance, a bevy of vibrant blue flags that flapped in the distance, emblazoned with a golden crown atop two crossed spears. This was the Autumn Wall.

On the other side of the wall as they passed, a river as large as any Phalamili had ever seen poured over the edge of Norrholt. A thunderous roar of water crashed into the cloud-sea far below it, turning to mists and joining the clouds as it tumbled. As wide as a village, this was the Autumn River.

As the Prezon sailed past the majestic waterway, a firm hand turned Phalamili around, and she stared into the stern face of the first mate, Leig. “Right, spider, use those gangly limbs of yours. Climb up the fore-mast, bring down our flag, and fly this one instead.”

Phalamili looked at the red square of cloth Leig shoved in her face. It was heavy and thick, and smelled of old dust. Was this new flag a sign of peace? Of war? Or was it perhaps a way of hiding who they truly were, like changing their name to one that was easier for the other ship to pronounce?

A sharp blow from Leig’s fist drove her out of her confusion and up the angled fore-mast. Gripping the angled rigging, Phalamili half-climbed and half-crawled up the thick ropes until the rigging met the top cross-beam. There was still a good yard to go, and Phalamili had to straddle the top of the mast and shimmy herself along until she reached the flag’s hanging-arm.

Hugging the mast with her chest, she reached down and unfastened the flag from its horizontal cross-piece. Affixing the new flag in its place, she gathered the old yellow flag together, and climbed back down to the deck.

When the flag flew freely, she could see that instead of the yellow flag of Erosea, with its white tower and two rivers, the red flag bore a black bird of prey. It was the Red Saqur, though poor Phalamili had never seen it before, nor knew what it meant.

But she was not the only person who saw the Red Saqur fly in the sharp winds. Far in the distance, a spyglass held by the true Monarch of Cast, Queen Ceinneret, caught sight of the Prezon as it sailed along the coast, for she had come to the Autumn Wall to inspect its defenses and reassure herself that Cast was well protected. Her eyeglass had been trained on the Herathian horizon, peering through the thin mists at the distant fortress of Oratz Niecurkhai. When she turned to inspect the lands-edge, the flash of yellow caught her eye, and she watched as the distant flag was changed for red.

“What is the meaning of this?” she asked, turning to the Knight Commander at her side. “Has Erosea now purchased the armada of Herathia? Does the Red Empire now hide beneath their merchant-king’s flag?”

The Knight Commander, Defender of the Autumn Wall and Commander of the Castian Forces, had guarded the Autumn Wall for many years and had seen many things. He was not unfamiliar with the ways of smuggling, and so he said, while bowing like this: “Your Highest, that is most like a smuggler ship or perhaps Merchant vessel who has purchased the right to dock at Herathian ports. The Empire of Herathia is known to be cruel to foreign ships that fly near their shores. I beg you to not concern yourself with such trivialities, when the ever-present threat of Herathian aggression is so near.”

Queen Ceinneret lowered her glass to look her trusted commander in the eye. “It is your belief that the Empire will soon attack the Autumn Wall?”

The Knight Commander bowed again. “Your Highest, there is no doubt in my heart. Now that Herathia has claimed Wendsha for its own, the dreams of countless Herathian Warlords has come to pass. Will the hawk be satiated with this drop of blood on its beak? When Herathia strikes, it will not be with children, nor as a drizzle of rain. You have seen our soldiers and our armaments; I beg you to instate levies to build our army mightier than it has ever been, to curb this Imperial aggression.”

Now it is important for you to know that though Ceinneret was Queen of Cast, and there were none in the kingdom who would dare resist her commands, she knew she was imprisoned in chains tighter than the lowliest prisoner in her dungeons. As Queen, she could wear what she wished, as long as it was befitting a queen. She could eat whatever she wanted, so long as the cook could stomach preparing it for a queen. She could do as she wished, so long as the wishes were those of a Queen.

It may sound strange to your ears to hear me say poor Queen, but I say it nonetheless. Poor Queen Ceinneret, for she was unfortunate as she was fraught. In her heart of hearts, she knew that the Herathian Empire would not attack Cast where they were strongest. She knew the threat to Cast came not from bloodshed, but from hunger.

But alas, she was trapped by her Knight Commander’s plea, for what Queen could refuse to defend her kingdom and still remain a Queen? Nor could she be seen to hide nor restrain, lest her subjects grumble at her womanly nature. Trapped as she was, Queen Ceinneret could only say: “Speak with your Captains of the guard and Knights of the Sword, as well as my Master of Arms. A levy will be raised from all quarters of the Kingdom. The high-lands, the low-lands, inward, edgeward, across the entirety of Cast. Mobilize the militias and inform every Duke and Earl from here to the borders; all able-bodied men to fit themselves for service.” and so she called the Captains of the guard to her side, and the Knights of the Sword, and the Master of Arms, and so to her Chamberlain, to speak her commands.

All bowed and obeyed, save the Chamberlain, who was brash and headstrong, and was the only one who dared to question his Queen when he thought she was being unwise. “Your Highest,” he spoke in a slick-oil voice, “From which regions shall we draw levies from? The Barons and Counts of our great Kingdom are of uneven fortune, and some may resent giving much when others give little. Then too, Your Highest, there is the matter of the treasury. Such a large army will require food and coin for their service. Arms and armor will need to be commissioned. As great and powerful as Cast is, I fear we will soon find our treasury and our store-rooms empty.”

But wise Queen Ceinneret had an answer to his concerns: “AS we levy our lords, so too we will levy our merchants. Go to the quartermaster, the stock-taker, and the portsmith. Go to the merchant guilds and send word across the lands-edge. A new tax is to be levied against those who would sell our citizens foreign goods. Let no foreign ship dock in our ports without paying for the privilege. This will suffice to pay for our army. Too, a tax on wine and meat and other rich fare. It is the rich who have the most to lose from Herathian torches, so they can pay more to protect it.”

Their commands given, the Chamberlain and the Knight Commander left their Queen there on the ramparts, looking down from atop the tallest rampart of the Autumn Wall, alone save for her handmaid.

Her handmaid, called Melora, had served her highest for her entire life. She was young, but bold and strong, and not afraid of speaking her mind if she thought it important. She was clever and resourceful, and Ceinneret asked of her many things that no other member of the court could do.

“Your Highest,” Melora spoke out of turn, the one person Ceinneret allowed to do so when they were alone, “It is the order of the crown that the legions of defenders remain hidden in the Autumn Wall. If the Herathians watched for twenty generations, they would not see all the soldiers garrisoned here. Are levies from the local barons and earls truly necessary?”

Queen Ceinneret smiled at the wisdom of her clever maid. “I have no fear of Herathians at the Autumn Wall. It has stood firm for generations, and they too must see it as we do; as solid and unconquerable as a mountain. If Herathia seeks to reopen old wounds, they will not strike us where we are strongest, but where we are weakest.”

“The docks?” Melora asked after but a moment of thought. “But Cast has an armada of consummate strength, your highest. A fleet a hundred strong of Boarders, Short-sails, and Sunderships, to say nothing of her Highest’s flagship, the Indestructible Tregurtha. And or every port-city holds with it enough ballistae to destroy the entire Herathian fleet.” If you find it odd that the Queens handmaid would know such things, it is because Melora was skilled in far more than serving her Queen in her chambers. Few were those who noted Melora’s soft footfalls throughout the palace, and fewer who could tell when she was listening closely to the whispers of the court. Her skill with potions and poisons was a guarded secret, and there was not a single corner of the kingdom that Melora’s spies did not reach.

Ceinneret answered: “Our military defenses are adequate. I speak of another aspect of my kingdom entirely. If Herathia comes with bristling cannon and flint-rifles I have no doubt we will crush them. I do not speak of rifles and ships, Melora, I speak of trade; Smugglers, Melora, and thieves. They will take bread from our mouths and sell pittance in return for the privilege. Erosea will empty our larders in exchange for luxuries. Eventually we will forget who we are. I say to you, Melora, Herathia is not half the threat that Erosea is.”