The Jongurian Mission
Read The Jongurian Mission Online
Authors: Greg Strandberg
The loud roar of cannons filled the air again and drowned out the sounds of the weather for a moment. Both ships had fired this time. Two of the shots landed harmlessly in the water behind them while another went sailing far overhead to their right. The last fared better, blowing through the rigging and snapping lines before burying itself into the mainmast with a large shower of splinters. Trey dropped the bundle he was carrying and threw his hands up to his face. Blood could be seen seeping through his fingers.
The
Jongurian Mission
Greg Strandberg
Connect with Greg Strandberg:
www.bigskywords.com
Copyright © 2012 Greg Strandberg
Kindle Edition.
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Also by Greg Strandberg
Fiction
The Jongurian Mission
Trouble in Jonguria
The Jongurian Resolution
The Warring States
The State of Chu
The State of Qin
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Priests and Prospectors: A History of Montana, Volume Two
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Table of Contents
Introduction
The wind and waves threatened to overturn the small boat for what seemed the hundredth time. Even in the dark black clouds could be seen overhead, their billowy forms swelling large and ominously. The nearly full moon was completely blocked out by their presence, and if it wasn’t for the continuous lightning flashes the men in the boat wouldn’t have been able to see at all. As it was, the lightning cast the island they were rowing to in an eerie silhouette, and with each new flash they could see that their efforts at the oars were pulling them closer to their goal.
Leisu Tsao sat on the prow of the boat and looked ahead.
He didn’t like traveling on water, but if his master bid him, he obliged willingly and without complaint. The voyage here had been anything but uneventful. What should have taken just a few days stretched into more than a week when this storm bore down on them two days into their journey. The seas were usually unmerciful this time of year, but to Leisu it seemed that this storm had a particular vengeance. Perhaps it knew of their objective and disagreed, he had pondered several days before while watching the dark clouds loom over the horizon and block out the sun. After all, if their goal succeeded the balance of nature would irrevocably be upset; their plan would embroil two continents of men, and men had a way of destroying everything around them when they were troubled.
“Pull,” the man directly behind Leisu yelled to the four oarsmen in the boat.
Leisu smiled.
Ko Qian was as dutiful as ever, even on this unwanted mission, and in such horrid weather.
“Pull, I said,”
Ko yelled again, louder this time.
It seemed to Leisu that the prodding of the men was working; they were getting closer to the shore.
What would they find there?
Leisu had been skeptical of his master’s plan at first, doubting if the man they were looking for would even still be alive after this long. It had been more than five years now since he’d been exiled to this desolate island that had barely enough to survive on. While numerous species of plants somehow managed to thrive here, none were edible. Whatever animals called this place home were nothing more than small rodents. A man could live on those for some time, but five years? Leisu doubted that very much. No, when they were done searching the island, probably late on the morrow judging by how terrible the weather was, he expected all they would have found was a ragged skeleton with a few tattered remnants of clothing still covering the sun-bleached bones. While his master had no doubts that the man known as the ‘False King’ in the West was still alive and well and just waiting for an opportunity to get off this rock, Leisu wasn’t so sure.
Grandon Fray had gambled everything during the final years of the East-West War
that had embroiled Adjuria and Jonguria. Frustrated as much by the ten-year stalemate as the rest of his countrymen, and with no end to the war in sight, Grandon had decided to do something about it, whereas the other nobles merely sat back and waited for something to happen. First he had convinced his king that a grand offensive against the Jongurians was needed in the most unlikely of places: the Isthmus. It seemed farfetched at the time, and was laughable now, but Leisu had come to realize that it was necessary for the man’s plan. When the offensive failed, as it was bound to do, he had done the unthinkable: he killed a king, or at least had the job done for him. Having removed the only obstacle that he saw for peace, Grandon led the rest of the Adjurian nobles in forming a council to govern the country, much to the frustration and useless protests of the rightful young heir to Adjuria and his mother. From there he managed to negotiate an end to the war with Jonguria, setting the stage for a peace agreement. Peace came, rather too quickly Leisu thought, and the Adjurian forces began withdrew from Jonguria.
While Jonguria descended into chaos following the war, Adjuria was able to keep itself together.
Grandon cemented his role as the leading noble on the royal council and then managed to have himself named king. He ruled for a few years, but his policies were disastrous and drove the country apart.
Who knows
, Leisu thought as he got closer to the island,
maybe that was all a part of his plan too
.
It wasn’t long before some of the other provinces
had their fill of Grandon Fray and decided that a boy for a king couldn’t be any worse than this usurper. A brief Civil War broke out, Grandon’s forces were defeated, and the rightful king was put back on the throne. For all of his troubles at ending the war and bringing peace to his country Grandon was exiled to the rock that would forevermore be called Desolatia Island.
S
everal more bolts of lightning lit up the night sky. The boat was close now, just a few minutes away from the shore.
Perhaps it’d be better if Grandon was dead
, Leisu thought to himself as the boat neared the rocky beach. The man seemed to bring turmoil to whatever he undertook, and there was more than enough of that in Jonguria at the moment. Did his master really think that more would allow him to increase his control? It wasn’t the first time Leisu thought it was odd that his master, a man who would not tolerate failure, was seeking the aid of a man whose failure had divided a nation against itself and ended in his own downfall. But then Jonguria was already divided against itself, Leisu thought. There were those that supported the emperor, whose numbers seemed to lessen everyday, and those that supported the rebels, whose numbers increased. His master was the leader of the rebels in the southwest, and if his current plans were carried out, he’d soon be the rebel leader of the entire country. Not for the first time since setting out did Leisu again wonder how Grandon Fray could possibly help bring that about.
A few large waves pushed the boat the last few feet forward and they could feel the wooden hull scrape against the rocky
shore. The rowers jumped out and pushed the boat further up the beach to a more secure resting place, and then Ko and Leisu jumped out into the white surf. Leisu looked over at Ko and nodded.
“Get out the supplies and find a dry place to put up the tent
,” Ko yelled.
Two of the oarsmen jumped back into the boat and began to throw down large bags to the other two, who then threw them further up onto the dry beach.
Leisu walked forward to observe the land. From what he could see between lighting flashes the land looked like it could support a man indefinitely. But he knew better. The lush green foliage was useless to men and the rocky cliffs that seemed to rise straight up hundreds of feet from the island’s center were a haven for poisonous snakes, spiders, and other vile creatures.
Five years
, Leisu thought once again.
There could be no way
.
A large flash of lighting lit up the sky and the immediate thunder behind it caused him to jump.
He felt foolish. What was there to be scared of? This island was as desolate as its name implied. Another flash came and he thought that he saw something ahead of him. He narrowed his eyes into the darkness. It was not until the sky was again lit up again, however, that his suspicions were confirmed: there was someone, or something, moving toward him. He called back at Ko, who in turn yelled at the oarsmen. All gathered behind Leisu, their daggers drawn. Another flash of light came and they could all see a man walking toward them.
Could it really be?
Leisu thought.
Ko called for one of the men to light a lantern.
Its faint glow illuminated a small circle around them, but it was the lighting that really lit up the land. Another flash came and showed the man no more than fifty feet away. A minute later they could hear the unmistakable sound of footfalls scraping sand and rock together. A man stepped into their small arc of light. He had long grey hair going white at the temples with a matching beard that filled his entire face and crowded out the rest of his features. He was well-tanned and frail, his ragged clothing tattered and torn and hanging off him like a sail. He was above-average height for an Adjurian, and stood a head taller than any of the Jongurians, even Leisu, who prided himself on his imposing height.
“I’ve been expecting you,” the man said as he entered the light.
His voice was strong and commanding, even if his appearance was not. Leisu immediately sensed the power of the man, and respected him for it. Somehow, against all odds, he’d survived where any lesser man would’ve died.
“Oh?” Leisu replied.
“Yes, I’ve been watching your progress for more than a day now,” the man said.
“Grandon Fray,” Leisu
stated more than asked, and the man gave a slight nod.
“Were you expecting someone else?” he asked mockingly.
Usually Leisu wouldn’t have allowed that tone with anyone, but then he had to remember that he was in the presence of a king; even one who had had his predecessor killed to steal the throne, started a Civil War, and then been banished from his country. Men like that were used to taking whatever tone they wanted with whomever they wanted. In their own eyes all were beneath them.
“No, I think not,” Leisu replied to
Grandon’s question.
“You’re Jongurian,” he said looking them over.
“I expected that my own countrymen would be the ones to free me from my prison,” he lifted his arms to indicate the land around him, “but I’ll not pass up any chance to get off this rock.”
“Good to hear,” Leisu
nodded, “we’ve come a long way to find you.”
“May I ask why?”
“Perhaps we should get off this beach first,” Leisu suggested.
“I’ve walked this beach for five years now,” Grandon replied, “it won’t kill you to stand upon it for a few minutes more.”
Leisu gave the man a long look. Five years of exile had done nothing to temper his manners. He still acted much the king, but then Leisu figured that he was still a king: of all of the barren majesty this landscape could produce. He held his temper in check and explained to the reason for their presence.
“We’ve come from Jonguria at the behest of my master Zhou Lao, the man who holds the southwest of the country.”
Leisu waited for Grandon to ask a few questions at that declaration, but he remained quiet, so he continued. “He wants to expand his power and influence throughout the rest of the country, and eventually challenge the emperor’s precarious position. He thinks that you might be able to help him with that plan,” Leisu finished, looking at the disheveled Adjurian.
Grandon shook his head.
“I don’t see what that has to do with me at all.”
“Your nephew does.”
“My nephew?” Grandon replied questioningly, for the first time taking his eyes off them as he looked into the distance. “Jossen? What could he possibly have in this?”
“Jossen
Fray is himself trying to cement his own power in Adjuria. But while we struggle against an emperor and have been for years, your nephew is just beginning his bid to wrest the throne from his king. He believes that an unstable Jonguria will help him achieve that goal, and when my master takes over the country, your nephew will have a strong ally.”
“I see,” Grandon replied, but Leisu doubted that he really did.
He himself didn’ see the entire scope of the plan that his master was unveiling, and he assumed that he never would. Many things would remain a mystery to him as these great events unfolded, and Leisu would be remembered in his nation’s history for helping to bring them about. This night on Desolatia Island’s stormy beach was just one of many that he’d leave his mark on.
“Well,” Leisu replied after a few moments of silence.
“Would you like to come with us or stay on your island? The choice is yours.”
Grandon looked up at them for a few moments, and then without speaking walked past them and climbed into the boat.
Leisu smiled. It had begun.
ONE
“Holy hell!
Damn it anyway!”
A string of curses were let loose over the rocky field as a young
boy stooped down to his toils.
At above-average height, with short-cropped brown hair and a slight build, though well-muscled from countless hours of exertion in the outdoors, Bryn
Fellows could at the same instant strike both an imposing figure, but also one of quiet composure. He was still quite young, only fourteen now, but a lifetime of struggling against both the elements thrown at him by nature and those by men’s demands had given him an outlook and wisdom beyond his years. Still, he
was
young, and therefore exhibited many of the characteristics and traits common to all young men: quick-to-actions not thought through, disdain for authority, and a sense that the world held no knowledge which his mind did not already possess.
