The Ancient Ones (The Legacy Trilogy Book 3) (36 page)

Read The Ancient Ones (The Legacy Trilogy Book 3) Online

Authors: Michael Foster

Tags: #Magic, #legacy, #magician, #Fantasy, #samuel

BOOK: The Ancient Ones (The Legacy Trilogy Book 3)
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Ferl was obviously not in the best mood today and he struck Leopold on the back soundly as the young Emperor made a rather foolish lunging jab. It enraged Leopold and he threw his sword down upon the deck, and swore aloud. The men were quiet as he bent and retrieved his weapon. Standing, Leopold glanced about to see if Captain Orrell was near, for the man would surely have disapproved. He could almost hear the captain lecturing in his head, saying, ‘Leopold, you have nothing to prove!’ Damn it! He did have something to prove. He hated being beaten!

He stood straight and granted Ferl a deceitful smile, before rushing in with a quick volley of blows. Ferl back-pedalled, worried by Leopold’s sudden burst of aggression, and finally darted out of the young Emperor’s reach. Leopold was not about to be bettered and sallied again, this time landing a sharp blow to Ferl’s forearm, making the man dance aside, rubbing at it and looking greatly upset.

The crowd cheered again and Leopold bowed to them in response. His brooding vanished. He now felt greatly satisfied.

‘Thank you, thank you!’ he told the crowd, circling one hand to them in gracious appreciation.

Some feminine giggling from above caught his attention and Leopold glanced to the top of the aft deck. A row of black-haired Koian damsels was looking down at him.

Now, Leopold could not help himself after this and began strutting around boldly.

‘It’s really quite a boiling afternoon, isn’t it, Your Majesty?’ Ferl said, trying to put an end to his misery.

‘Nothing out of the ordinary, Ferl. We have a few more days of this weather yet to endure before we arrive. Let’s have one more turn at it, and then I’ll let you have your rest.’

Leopold lashed out confidently, slapping his sword at the poor man as hard as he could, barking with each stroke. It was all too much for Ferl, and perhaps the man yielded just to see an end to it all. He turned his back and presented his Emperor with an irresistible target. Leopold stepped in with a grin and gave him a great poke between the ribs with the tip of his sword. Ferl yelped and dropped his weapon, and the crowd shouted victoriously. Poor Ferl was left rubbing at the spot on his back and grimacing in discomfort.

‘Sorry. I couldn’t help myself. You left your defence wide open,’ Leopold told him with a lecturing tone.

‘Think nothing of it, Your Majesty,’ Ferl replied humbly, red in the face from the heat. ‘Good win. I think you’ve far surpassed my ability to teach you anything more.’

‘Nonsense, my man,’ Leopold told him. ‘I enjoy sparring with you immensely. I couldn’t do without you.’

He made sure his words carried loudly. Glancing up, he could see flash of the Koian ladies’ smiles as they laughed and whispered excitedly to each other, no doubt impressed by his skills. Such women would never have seen such prowess, trapped on their island as they were, and Turian swordplay was the most advanced of its kind.

An enthusiastic young crewman brought Leopold a jug of water and Leopold dropped his weapon while he gulped it down, then finished by pouring the remainder of it over his head to cool himself down.

The men cheered and laughed. ‘Good show, Your Majesty!’ some called. ‘Brilliant work, Your Highness!’ shouted others.

He retrieved his wooden baton and skipped up the three flights of stairs towards the top of the aftcastle.

‘Ladies!’ he called as he made the high decking, and the Koian woman turned to him, all smiles and whispers. There were ten of them side by side, each seemingly more beautiful than the last as he feasted his eyes upon them. ‘It’s good to see you out of your cabins. Are you enjoying our hospitality?’ He was not sure if they could understand him, but his address caused even more excitement. Still, none spoke in return.

One of them waggled her finger towards Leopold’s sword as she whispered in her friend’s ear.

‘Well,’ Leopold continued, granting them his best smile and swaggering about with his practice weapon resting on his shoulder, ‘I must admit I am still a student of the sword but I am glad you enjoyed the display.’

‘Oh, we did,’ one replied and Samuel’s magic did its job of letting him understand.

Leopold was glad to finally have some response. It was the woman called Kali, and she leant casually against the railing behind her, a little more in the manner of a bar patron than with the proper posture such ladies should exhibit. ‘We did not know an emperor could be so intimate with his men. It is very informative and entertaining. And this performance, playing with wooden sticks like children, what is its purpose?’

‘What’s that?’ Leopold asked, still grinning, not sure he had heard her correctly. ‘Why … why it was swordplay,’ he stated hesitantly, trying to reaffirm his confidence.

‘Were you flailing your arms on purpose?’ she asked, but it was obvious from her tone that she was teasing him. She gasped and put her hand to her mouth in mock surprise. ‘Was it not all foolery?’

‘Oh dear,’ said Arrow beside her. ‘In that case, your man is very gracious to put up with you. He is your superior in every way, avoiding you as you stagger about like a drunken ox, allowing you to better him.’

Kali seemed eager to speak again. ‘Your fellow took a beating just so he could be away from you. Surely you knew, or did you not?’

Leopold felt the smile petrify on his face, then wilt and waft away. ‘Oh.’ There was little else he could say.

‘We hope you are going to let your soldiers do all the fighting, Your Majesty,’ a third woman declared, ‘or we may be better off returning to our island.’

‘Well, of course,’ Leopold replied quite uncomfortably. He forced his smile back into play, but he felt a sorry actor in a very amateurish theatre. ‘Then I shall leave you ladies to enjoy the fine view. Good day.’

They continued laughing as Leopold returned down the stairs. He did his best to appear unworried by their remarks, but he was sure the men had taken notice. Most turned their eyes to the deck or tapped their comrades on the arms to look away, rather than meet his gaze. They could not understand what was said, but they knew what all the tittering and giggling was about; they could read their Emperor’s reaction.

Leopold returned to his room and put his feet up for a rest. Those adorable women had given him a beating much worse than anything Captain Orrell could have served him—perhaps even the magician. Yes ... much more than that. Still, he was not about to form a grudge against them. Better he quietly lick his wounds and perhaps pretend it never happened. Yes, that would be the plan.

 

****

 

‘What do you want!’ Leopold roared. He had worked in the galley all morning, dicing up endless volumes of preserved pork for the crew’s lunch, and his temper had reached its limit several bucketfuls ago. The last thing he had the patience for was the magician standing in the doorway looking smug.

‘I heard of your run-in with the Koians.’

The ship’s cooks had fled, warned in whispers of Lord Samuel’s approach.

‘What of it?’ Leopold replied, not pausing from his work. He hacked the next piece of flesh into misshapen lumps with his heavy cleaver. Flecks of meat covered his shirt, but he did not care. He would not clean himself until the whole unsavoury job was finished. ‘Have you come to gloat?’

‘Truthfully, yes.’

‘Well, I’ve forgotten it already.’

‘That’s good to hear,’ Samuel declared. He wandered the galley, poking his nose into drawers. ‘I hope you learned a thing or two.’

‘Which things are they?’ Leopold asked, pausing.

‘About your subjects, to be specific—the crew and most everyone aboard this ship. You are their Emperor, Leopold. They admire you, so they lie to you. Turians would never dare tell you that you might be making a mistake, that you might be making a fool of yourself. They convince themselves instead that everything you do is perfect, because of who you are. And if you do make a mistake, they wipe it from their minds, or shift the blame elsewhere. You cannot change that, Leopold—not in a hurry anyways—but you can understand it. Your Empire will operate much more smoothly if you do.’

‘I understand,’ Leopold told him curtly.

‘Really?’ Samuel replied with a raised eyebrow. ‘But I see preparing lunch hasn’t done a lot for your mood.’ He paused, and Leopold recommenced his chopping, waiting for the question he knew would follow. ‘So ... have you had enough for today?’

There; it was said.

Leopold stopped, cleaver in hand. He had been anticipating this moment and had prepared a careful reply. ‘No, thank you.’ His voice was as restrained and patient as he could manage, conveying a pleasant tone.

‘What’s that?’ Samuel asked with disbelief.

‘I said “no”. Lunch is not ready and I’ve much more to do before it is finished.’ Internally, the contented sound of his voice tortured him.

‘Remarkable, Leopold!’ the magician declared with pleasure. ‘Very well. Continue on. Cut away! And after that, given you are so keen, you can also help with dinner.’

Leopold could not believe his ears. ‘I beg your pardon?’ All pretence fell away.

The magician’s smile broadened. ‘I’m so happy, Leopold. Work away. I’m very pleased to see you enjoying yourself.’

‘Wait, wait, wait,’ Leopold uttered hurriedly, placing down his knife. ‘Every time you ask me if I’ve had enough, I say “yes”, and you make me work more. This time, I say “no” and you still set me more.’

‘That’s right, Leopold. Because I know you are lying. You only say “no” because you think it’s what I want to hear. It’s not, and even if it were, I’d wait for you to mean it. You haven’t learnt the lesson yet, so you must keep working.’

‘So what is the blasted lesson!’ Leopold bellowed, unable to contain his frustration.

‘I’ll let you work it out,’ the magician replied, and with that he turned and slipped out the doorway.

The cooks came racing in from their hiding places, back to their benches and hurrying to catch up.

‘What are you looking at?’ Leopold roared at one of them who had dared to glance his way.

‘Nothing, Your Majesty!’ the man replied meekly.

Leopold picked up his cleaver and brought it down with a vengeance, burying its blade through the meat and into the table top. How can I do it? he thought desperately. How can I kill that infernal magician?

 

***

 

There was no way to approach The Heavenly City without being seen, so they brought the Farstride to a rest as near as they dared. They sheltered amongst a cluster of jungle-covered islands that spotted the ocean amidst thousands of others—the sprawling edge of the archipelago that cluttered about the coast.

They saw several small fishing boats, but the vessels were devoured by the sea before they could race away, snatched down by some unseen hand. No one asked if Lord Samuel was responsible—they did not need to.

Each time another small boat disappeared, crewmen looked towards the magician—perhaps seeking some sign of his involvement—but each time he was motionless, glaring seawards while his magic did its work.

Their landing party filled three of the longboats. Captain Orrell was accompanied by six of his men. Lady Wind brought Phoenix and seven of her countryfolk with her. Leopold could not comprehend why the Koian women were included. If there was any kind of trouble, it meant more helpless women to protect.

He sighed and shook his head at the sight of them. At least some were remaining behind. Daneel was charged with keeping his eye on them, keeping them out of sight of the crew and generally keeping them out of trouble. Commander Riggadardian had the task of keeping his eye on Daneel.

One of the Koian women staying behind was the one called Kali, and she met Leopold’s efforts with scowls when he mistakenly tried to assist her into a boat.

‘I’m not coming, oaf!’

The tone of her voice had him quickly retreating. He winced at her unrestrained disdain, but there was nothing he could do except climb into the boat and sit, while the preparations to launch were completed around him. Kali watched the crew closely, suspiciously.

Despite her apparent concerns, the three boats were lowered safely and they commenced away immediately. The crew gave them a subdued hurrah as a send-off, while Commander Riggadardian looked down over them, worried as he watched his Lady Wind depart.

They surreptitiously coursed towards the coast, using the islands for cover. Leopold was worried they would never find their way back through the maze of channels. Once the Farstride was out of sight, hidden behind the islands, he had no idea how to get back to her.

‘Why are we bringing them?’ Leopold asked the magician, casting his eye to the boatload of Koian women that led the way.

‘This is their nation, Leopold. Let them fight their war as they see fit. People benefit from participating in their own struggles. Watch on. You may learn something useful for your future as Emperor.’

‘Aren’t you worried they may be more trouble than they’re worth?’

‘Don’t worry, my young companion. They will cause no trouble. Who would dare harm such innocent, frail things?’

Leopold glanced sidelong at the magician, not sure how to interpret his words. Was that a ghost of a smile on the man’s lips? Whatever it was, it was gone, too fleeting to be fully discerned. ‘And why are you not bringing your casket?’ he asked. ‘Would it not be a good idea to bring it along in case it is needed.’

The magician did not move. He scanned the misty rim of the mainland intently, moving only his eyes, searching the distance with his senses. ‘It is safer back on the ship. I would hope not to need it. If I do, I can return to it quickly in a pinch. I can’t go lugging it around the countryside with me wherever I go. What sort of reputation would I get?’ With that, he openly granted Leopold one of his most disturbing grins, a smile painted on a puppet.

They met ground in a swampy marsh and Lady Wind directed them between the humps of dry land amongst the water. A bridge was the first sign of solid land, marking a highway that crossed a narrowing of the canals. They waited out of sight while Captain Orrell’s men camouflaged their boats using leaves and branches. Once done, the vessels were indistinguishable from the gangly, grey trees and mud around them.

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