Guild Wars: Sea of Sorrows (39 page)

BOOK: Guild Wars: Sea of Sorrows
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The pavilion where the captains met was larger now, old wooden pillars and thatched roof replaced by smooth plaster walls within the graceful framework of a ship of the line. With a regal view from the top of a high incline, the council windows looked out over the busy harbor.
The building’s balcony on the other side provided a view of the city’s trade area.

Cobiah stood on the balcony, watching as a tight-knit group approached through the broad city streets. They paused in the plaza, where the tall statue of a lion leapt over a fountain shaped like the Tyrian coast. Cobiah leaned over the railing, watching as they drew closer. The Lionguard escorted a small group of sailors from the
Nomad II
to the pavilion, ignoring or shouting down the detractors who lined the city streets. Cobiah spied Isaye at the center of the group. She wore the pale coat of the Krytan navy, with a wide baldric of green across her chest and a broad-brimmed hat atop her smooth mahogany hair. Her baldric was light on trinkets, holding only two, an indication that she was newly appointed to her position in the navy.

Despite the twisted emotions running through his veins, Cobiah couldn’t help staring. She was still beautiful. Though her dark ponytail was streaked with gray and her face was creased with a gentle serenity, Isaye’s green-gold eyes still struck the core of Cobiah’s heart. What had happened on that day? When he’d found her in an inn room with another man . . .

Cobiah knew several of the sailors walking with her, but it was Isaye’s new first mate who drew his attention. He raised an eyebrow. The Krytan man was tall and strong, broad of shoulder with caramel-colored eyes and a light mustache. His hair was curly, a dark brown shot through with sun-bronzed red. He had a rifle strapped across his back, and at his side he wore a macelike scepter made of iron and brass. He, too, wore the Krytan uniform—but his baldric had far more small medals and trinkets than Isaye’s. The man might not have outranked her, but he’d clearly been in the military far longer, and far more notably, than she.

“Who’s that?” he asked Sykox.

“First mate . . . huh. His name’s . . . eh . . .” The charr grunted, looking at the crew manifest they’d been given for the meeting. “Tenzin Moran?”

Turning to look at him, Cobiah blurted,
“Moran?”

“Hey, yeah, I’ve heard of him! That’s ol’ Osh’s son. He’s, what, fifteen or so years younger than you?” The engineer chuckled to himself. “Old Osh used to brag that his kid back home was some kinda Krytan hero, a real gold star with lots of medals for valor and bravery. Earned them for fighting centaurs in the Shiverpeaks. Osh used to say he was one of their best sharpshooters. Now I guess he’s in the Krytan marines.”

“Marines? Feh. Those aren’t real sailors.”

“Best watch it. Marines are mean. They’ll wait ’til us ‘sailors’ take them to shore, and then they’ll turn around and eat our faces off.” The charr winked.

Pausing to think for a moment, Cobiah asked hopefully, “Did Tenzin ever fight in Ascalon? Does he have any problem with charr?”

“No.” Sykox shook his head. “Not that Moran ever mentioned.”

“Damn,” Cobiah muttered. He glanced back down at the small group now climbing the steps toward the pavilion. “I guess I’ll have to find some other reason to hate him.” Downstairs, the wide oak doors swung open to allow the clustered knot of Krytan sailors entrance. The Lionguard held the citizens back until the doors could be closed again, but through the gateway Cobiah could hear the loud jeers and angry yells of the crowd. Cobiah walked down the stairs, grateful—as he rarely was—that Nodobe was nearby. The Elonian captain nodded in friendly greeting as Cobiah reached the bottom.

“I’m certain this will be a pleasant meeting,” the necromancer said with a grin, rubbing his cheek.

“About as much fun as trying to put a collar on a skritt.” Cobiah straightened his coat and tried to look assured.

Isaye and her entourage walked to the center of the room, pausing there as Cobiah and the others crossed to greet them. Cobiah’s hands clenched in his coat pockets, and suddenly he wished he hadn’t worn his hat.

“Isaye. My dear friend, you grace us with your presence.” Nodobe’s words were as smooth and pleasant as silk in a breeze. He reached to take her hand and wrap it about his arm. “It has been too long.”

Isaye smiled and greeted the dark-skinned captain in return, but Cobiah didn’t hear a single word of it. With that one smile, she’d transported him back to the day she’d left—her hair flying in the wind, tears reddening her hazel eyes, anger curling her rich, full lips. Whatever pleasantries she gave Nodobe, they were lost in the memory of words from over seven years ago.

“Why, Isaye? How can I ever trust you?”

“How could you even question?”

“Hedda.” Isaye moved on and took the plump norn’s strangely delicate hand. “You look wonderful. I think you’ve lost weight!”

Hedda laughed. “Lost it? By the Spirits of the Wild, woman, have you gone blind? If you have, you’re missing out on a feast for the eyes—tell me, who is this handsome cabin boy you’ve got beside you?”

With a twinkle in her eye, Isaye answered, “Captain Hedda, may I present First Mate Tenzin Moran.”

“Well, well, you’re a Moran to boot.” Hedda looked the young man up and down rapaciously. “If you were a bit taller, you might give my husband, Bronn, a challenge
for my interest!” Everyone laughed, and the Krytan’s decorated baldric glittered as Tenzin swept her a bow. As they did, Isaye’s eyes met his, and Cobiah’s heart froze into ice.

They hadn’t faded a single shade, the rich hazel of moss-covered trees staring back at him with controlled interest. “Cobiah.” Isaye nodded briefly, and he returned the gesture. His throat was too dry to say anything.

“Come, my dear.” Nodobe patted Isaye’s hand that rested on his arm, drawing her close. “Let us go upstairs. I would be remiss if I did not try to woo you back to us with our city’s beauty.” He tugged at her gently, and Isaye followed. “We can talk on the building’s high deck, where the wind will sweep away the day’s heat.”

The two, and Hedda, made for the stairs. Sykox was standing there, twisting his new hat in his hands until it looked like a shapeless mass of blue felt. Cobiah saw Isaye greet the charr with a gentle hug, the spotted engineer’s sharp claws hovering lightly over her slender back. Wishing more than anything that he were a charr, Cobiah sighed.

“Commodore Marriner,” a gentle voice said at his side. Cobiah glanced to see Tenzin at his elbow. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir. My father spoke highly of you and of your city. I’m glad to have the opportunity to see Lion’s Arch for myself.”

“You’re welcome here, Tenzin.” Cobiah nodded more sharply than he’d intended. “Your father was a good man and a stalwart friend.”

“He said the same of you, sir.” Without intention, the young man’s charm soothed Cobiah’s temper.

“Did he? Well, perhaps your captain gave you a different impression.”

“No, sir.” Before Cobiah could smile at that, Tenzin
continued blithely on. “She never speaks of you at all.”

Grumpy again, Cobiah gestured toward the stairs, and the two men headed toward the top level of the building. The high deck was above the balcony, and the view was one of the finest in Lion’s Arch. A full turn showed the city to fine advantage, from the teal-blue water up to the greenery of thick jungle on the hills. Isaye, however, wasn’t interested in any of it. “I’ll cut directly to the issue,” she said, sitting down on one of the wicker chairs about a small table. A servant brought out a plate of tropical fruit and several tall glasses of punch. Cobiah was grateful to smell rum in his; the waiters of the council building knew him well. “The Krytan navy is assembling to the west. Prince Edair is planning to sortie into Lion’s Arch if the city doesn’t sign over its authority to Kryta. He’s sent me to offer terms.” Isaye took a sip of her drink, letting them consider her words. One mark in her favor: she didn’t look any happier about delivering the terms than the others did in hearing them. “All human captains of the council will be paid ten thousand gold coins for their labors in rebuilding the king’s land. They are offered lordships and titles if they swear fealty to Kryta. If they do not swear an oath to Prince Edair, they must quit Lion’s Arch immediately, never to return.”

Cobiah wasn’t the only one gritting his teeth. Even the courteous Nodobe soured, his brows knitting over shining black eyes. Hedda was first to speak, rumbling, “And those of us who are not of human stock?”

Isaye closed her eyes and said, “You are ordered by Prince Edair to leave the city without argument, quitting claim to any land, title, or authority in the city.”

“By Wolf’s bloody muzzle!” Hedda exploded, banging her drink on the table. “I won’t go. I have three young sons—born and raised here! This is our home. I’ll see
your prince hanged before I give up even a stone of our house’s foundation.”

Nodobe was quick to calm her down, reaching to touch the norn woman’s arm soothingly. “Hedda, be at peace. No one’s going to let them drive us out of Lion’s Arch without a fight.” He looked at Isaye, pursing his lips so tightly they appeared bloodless. “Isaye, sweet lady. Prince Edair must know that his demands are unreasonable. You know as well as I that he has no intention of letting us surrender in peace, even if we are willing to give up the city.”

Isaye looked down, swishing her drink uncomfortably. “His Highness would protest that his demands are entirely reasonable, given that the land has always been Krytan. He says you’re ‘squatting’ upon it without leave.” A murmur of disbelief rippled through the assembled captains, and Hedda had to choke back another exclamation. Isaye continued as if saying something she’d been made to rehearse. “It’s his very public opinion that the Captain’s Council should be paying
him
for the years you’ve been living in Kryta without paying taxes.”

Hedda banged her empty glass on the table, making the servants scatter.

“Please, hear us out.” Tenzin raised a hand to quiet the angry norn. “I can assure you that if we agreed with him, we wouldn’t be this explicit with you. We aren’t here to extract your surrender, nor do we expect you to bow down and kiss Prince Edair’s feet. Isaye and I . . .” He glanced at her, but the dark-haired captain kept her eyes lowered. Tenzin hesitated and then went on. “Please believe us, but as much as we can be, the
Nomad
is on your side.”

Feeling stifled for too long, Hedda burst out, “What in the blood-soaked Mists are we supposed to do? Fight a naval battle against Kryta?”

“That would be a battle they’d lose.” Nodobe glowered darkly. “Lion’s Arch has the strongest navy in Tyria. We’ve fought Dead Ships and won. He can’t honestly believe—”

“Prince Edair has no plans to fight at sea.” Deprecatingly, Isaye crossed her arms over her chest, and the little medals on her baldric jingled. “The Krytan navy isn’t going to fight yours in some kind of grand and glorious battle. Edair’s going to blockade the harbor, driving off all trade, and soon enough, Lion’s Arch will starve. That’s when he’ll send in the Seraph.”

Cobiah felt as though he’d been punched in the stomach. “The Seraph? They’d bring the whole damn Krytan army? Lion’s Arch is a naval power. We’ve never had to raise more than a city guard. They won’t have to wait for us to starve; they’ll overpower us in a month when the majority of their troops arrive.” Tugging off his hat, he tossed it on the table. “Damn it, damn it, damn it. What can we do?”

“Ask for reinforcements from the charr High Legions?” Sykox asked helpfully.

“And once the charr are done rebuffing Edair and turning our city into a war zone, the plethora of warriors in our streets will seize Lion’s Arch in the name of your imperator instead.” Nodobe shook his head gravely, slumping more deeply into his wicker chair. “No.”

Silence fell as they struggled to find other ideas. The wind swept over them, tugging at coats and rippling fur with chilly, salt-touched fingers. Cobiah struggled to keep his tongue. Isaye was right. Edair’s plan would work. If the Krytan prince managed to blockade the harbor and the roads, there’d be no supplies. It would be only a matter of weeks before the city had to give in.

Long moments later, Isaye concluded, “There’s one more possible option. The city could surrender to Kryta
through us. Tenzin and I have the prince’s ear. We could make a bargain to allow time for nonhumans to leave the city, maybe even keep their wares or get some kind of recompense, even if it has to come from the Lion’s Arch treasury. It’s possible that—”

“No!” The shout ripped from Cobiah’s throat before he knew it. Everyone at the table turned to stare at him, and Cobiah felt his face growing red. Nevertheless, he glared at Isaye. Through gritted teeth, he said, “We’re not giving up on this city. We fight for the things we love. We don’t sell them out, we don’t betray them, and we don’t run away from them.”

Isaye flinched, her face paling. “Betray them?” Her eyebrows raised meaningfully, eyes flashing.

“Unfair.” Tenzin came to her defense, rising sternly from the table. “Your personal issues aren’t welcome at this table, Commodore Marriner.”

“And you’re not welcome in this city. Get out.” Cobiah’s tone was final, but Isaye was already yelling.

“Cobiah, for once in your life, think about someone other than yourself!” She rose from her chair to engage with him. “Prince Edair isn’t kidding around. He’s willing to order thousands of his soldiers to die meaninglessly. Can you say the same? Think of the innocents who live here. Do you really want to drag them through a useless, one-sided war?”

“We can’t just give in!” he roared in return, rising as well. Pounding one fist on the table so hard the fruit jumped in its bowl, Cobiah bellowed, “This is our city. We founded it. We built it. Maybe you don’t understand what loyalty means, Isaye, but by the Six Gods,
I do
!” The two glared at one another, and Isaye’s hand fell instinctively to the pistol at her belt—only to find her wrist gently caught in Sykox’s paw.

“Ease down, pretty lady,” the charr engineer murmured softly. “Everybody here’s on the same side.” She glared at him but nodded and slowly pulled her hand away.

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