Winterfinding (11 page)

CHAPTER Three

28
^th
of Samhain

Lappala Fleet

Unlike the cells aboard
the
Kwloon
, the
Lappalan flagship, the reception chamber was bright and warm. Umma
designed it to mimic the cartel’s chamber. The only difference
being its reduced size and Umma’s polished silver throne in the
center. The blackened wood and metal of the fleet that gave it the
distinctive forbidding presence when spied by distant onlookers
disappeared upon entering the chamber. Umma had insisted that the
reception chamber be bright and cozy, not to be welcoming but to
add a sense of tender wonder to foreign entrants as they were lead
through the ominous maze that was the great ship.

Umma had already cowed a Silvincian admiral.
A drunken lout who looked as though he had finally sobered up
enough to be confused by the world around him. If this was the man
the Seven Spires thought worthy to command their great navy (a
thought that always made Umma smirk), then its army must be led by
a proper fool. She was sitting slouched, lounging almost, to one
side on the tall silver throne when Rava entered.

Rava Din was a black scar in Umma’s bright
room. He sauntered towards her with his face betraying no emotion.
However, his gait said much. It almost appeared as though he was
going to stop walking and slowly fall back the direction he came.
He was so very languid, as though he cared nothing for the act. Yet
she knew his movements were more deliberate than what anyone could
suspect. Every footfall was silent. Cat’s envied Rava’s
movements.

Taller than even most ensi, Rava was a lithe
coiled mass of muscle, sinew, and deep wounds. While Umma had
ambitiously rose to her position at a relatively young age, she was
just now entering her third decade; Rava had been quietly serving
the cartel for nearly five. Aside from his sober countenance and
mass of scars, which could be seen on his shoulders, hands, and
even creeping up from under his tunic along his neck, he didn’t
look much older than Umma.

He came to an abrupt stop ten paces from the
throne. His eyes looked wide and white, his black as pitch pupil
hiding a mass of churning unknowable thoughts. Umma, rightly,
feared him but also was desperate to best him or, at the very
least, win his approval. This infuriated her.

“
The Silvincian admiral
has returned to his blockade. But he has sent several rather swift
vessels east. Obviously carrying news of our arrival to these
waters.” Rava spoke evenly without a trace of an accent.

His tongue wasn’t native Lappala. He didn’t
sound Lappalan. He didn’t sound like anyone. His speech had no
qualities. Umma knew he was originally from the far south,
somewhere so deep into the high sands one really knew if it was
real. Rava was the only proof of there being life that far south,
where the sun had burned everything away. Even the people were
darker skinned than anywhere else.

Umma refused to straighten herself keeping
her repose. Almost immediately, she realized trying to look like
she was relaxed required more effort than expected. She looked Rava
up and down, “That comes as no surprise. We expected them to do so.
Hopefully their cute little boats will quickly spread the word of
our presence.”

“
I realize that you’re
eager to offload our cargo but there is no chance that these people
will be able to amass the trade we demand in as short a time as you
may expect.”

“
The fleet,” Umma sat up
and leaned forward, “Was designed to inspire awe. It was designed
to stand secure and patient while these sovi get themselves in
order.”

Rava nodded, “So it would seem.”

“
What I need to hear from
you,” Umma stood, “Is how much information have we gleaned from our
guests.”

“
I know all I need to know
from those two.” Rava was dismissive.

“
Do you?” Umma circled the
throne. “Then you can recommend how they are to be
deployed.”

Rava nodded but said nothing. Umma waited.
Quiet filled the room, soon the only sound perceptible were the
torch flames flickering and the uneasiness of the guards at the
entrance as they shifted their weight. Finally, Umma spoke.

“
Do tell.”

If Rava was satisfied in winning this small
battle of wills, he gave no outward sign. Speaking again in his
pristine neutral tone, “The pirate warrants no worries. He will
adequately fulfill his purpose. The spy, on the other hand, he…”
Rave paused. His yes looked down for a moment and he appeared to
chew his tongue for an instant as he was lost in thought, “…he may
be harboring us ill will.”

“
Harboring ill will
towards you, Inquisitor.” Umma said flatly.

Rava nodded, “I doubt he may be used as we
imagined but a few minor adjustments and he can still be of
service.”

“
Adjustments to him or to
our design?”

“
Yes.”

Umma smiled and sat back down on the throne.
“You have your instructions.”

“
I do. I merely wanted to
make you aware.” Rava bowed his head slightly, “As a
courtesy.”

“
Yes,” Umma shot back a
humoring grin, “A courtesy.”

“
There are now the
Rikonese to address.”

“
They are awaiting an
audience. Will you stay? Or…”

“
I would gladly stand at
your side so to receive any revised instructions once they are
heard.” Rava spoke quickly.

He raised his left foot behind him and
tapped the steel toe of his boot down twice on the hard veneer of
the floor. Umma was startled by just how resounding the knocks
were. The doors to the chamber began to open and suddenly Rava was
at Umma’s side. Although two steps below her, he was eye level from
where she sat. He didn’t look at her rather stared straight ahead,
as the two Rikonen emissaries were lead to the spot where he had
stood.

A man in rather middling dress and a woman
in what Umma assumed was meant to be armor entered. The woman was
cocksure and when she saw Rava couldn’t help but puff herself out
more. The man was neither craven nor haughty. He seemed almost lost
in another world as his eyes darted all around the room then froze
on a single invisible point as his expression glazed over. These
were queer folk, Umma concluded, but they were necessary. They
stopped before the throne. Neither bowed but the man began by
making an open palm gesture as he gazed not at Umma but just off
behind her shoulder.

“
I am acting Prime Alder
Soren Redding,” his voice was confident even if his demeanor was
odd, “and this is my sister and sergeant-at-arms Qala
Alvomar.”

“
So glad that you have
ventured forth to meet with us, Alder.”

“
Prime Alder” Qala
interjected.

“
Acting, wasn’t it?” Rava
replied.

Qala reddened and her jaw clenched. Umma
noticed Soren make a slight settling gesture and glance out of the
corner of his eye at his sister.

“
Please, tell us how we
can assist you.” Umma said returning them to the task at
hand.

“
Well, that’s issue… I’m
sorry, you are?” Soren stumbled but regained himself.

“
Wherever are my manners?”
Umma said with mock embarrassment. “You’ll forgive me. I’ve had a
rather trying time these past few days dealing with your
admiral.”

“
He’s no ally to us.” Qala
grumbled.

“
No?”

“
Madam, if you
would…”

“
Quite right, acting Prime
Alder.” Umma nodded and put on a more formal face for a moment. “I
am Umma Myr-Sen, the chosen proxy of Amar-Sin, Dictant of the
Cardinal Interest of Lappala. And this,” she made an open palm
gesture to Rava, “Is Inquisitor Rava Din.”

Soren nodded to both, and then asked. “Since
it has been so long since we’ve encountered proper emissaries from
the Aral, I hope that you won’t mind me reverting to our customary
honorifics.”

“
Just so, acting Prime
Alder,” Umma smiled, “these are after all, your lands.”

“
That is exactly right.”
Qala said.

“
I can’t help but notice a
bit of hostility in your bodyguard’s tone, acting Prime Alder.”
Umma replied. Qala visibly tensed, she was about to take a step
forward when Soren moved in front of her.

“
She isn’t a bodyguard
ambassador. She is in command of Rikonen’s elite guard so I would
request you craft your address to her in the appropriate fashion
and I shall ensure that there are no further outbursts or sour
tones.”

Soren was being deferential and Umma saw no
need to be difficult with him. She smiled, “So I shall ask again,
acting Prime Alder. How may we assist you?”

“
I suppose, firstly, you
can explain to us the nature of your great fleet.”

“
It had been decided that
since so little had been heard from your great city that it might
be in need of greater stores of bithumin. We have come to provide
you with what we calculated you have been missing out on for the
past… What was it Rave? Thousand days.”

“
Eleven hundred and
twenty-three days.” Rava said.

“
We know how long it’s
been.” Qala rasped between her teeth.

“
But why now? You’ve not
been lacking in trade. The Spires have been taking on your
exports.” Soren asked, ignoring his sister’s griping.

“
Our contracts with the
Silvincians are not the same as our contracts with your city. One
cannot simply subsume them at will. We make sure that our end of
the exchange is always upheld.”

“
Well, while we appreciate
that, it appears that you don’t quite understand the
situation…”

Umma cut Soren off, “That your city is under
siege by Silvincia. That doing so is not necessarily legal or, at
least, isn’t expressly illegal. That your city has no allies.”

“
We have allies.” Qala
asserted.

“
Oh? Whom might that be?”
Silence fell. Umma was in no rush to speak, she looked at Qala with
an expected innocence. Qala again reddened. She broke her gaze with
Umma, which then allowed Umma to turn back to Soren. “We cannot and
will not take any side in this dispute. We look upon it as an
internal matter for your lands to deal with. However, while we are
maintaining the same volume of trade as before, only now with the
Spires, we can’t help but feel we are being robbed of a
partner.”

Umma rose from the throne slowly coming down
to the level of the Rikonese. She gestured for the two to follower
her as she meandered behind the silver throne. Soren shot Qala a
confused look as they followed behind Umma. Rava stayed where he
was pivoting as he watched the trio. When they came around there
were two high, narrow consoles. One table held a bright copper bowl
in which small cutouts were made to hold single drinking glasses.
At the center of the bowl, was a deep basin filled with a cloudy
liquid. On the other table rested a large object wrapped in grey
cloth.

Stopping between the two consoles, Umma
turned to face Soren and Qala resting her hand on each table. “We
have surmised that this siege of Silvincia’s has caused a severe
crisis in your city.”

Qala snorted, “Our city is a husk. Between
The Blockade and the simooms, we’re being choked to death.”

“
The simooms?” Umma
asked.

Soren nodded, “Yes, The Blockade coincided
with perhaps the worst drought we’ve ever experienced. I’ve not
read about anything as bad in our histories and those go back to
before the founding of The Cathedral.”

“
We had not known.” Umma’s
voice was softer as she took in this new information. “And it has
caused huge dust storms?”

“
The ground is poisoned.”
Qala said offhandedly. Soren gave her an annoyed look, then turned
back to Umma nodding.

“
Our fields soured in
quick succession. The soil drying out and turning to a fine grey
dust. Some farmers tried to sow but it would just let loose a great
cloud. We tried a more refined bithumin to dampen the fields and
coax the crops but it didn’t work. Over the days, lack of rain, a
withering sun, and the winds striped the fields. Where there were
once leagues of cereal, there is now just greying
dunes.”

“
The people?”

“
Some tried to stay the
course.”

“
They got a black cough,
hacking up what looks like tar.” Qala added.

“
Yes, the simooms make it
nearly impossible to see or breathe. The dirt is in everything out
there.”

“
So they came into the
city.” Umma surmised.

“
It put more stress on our
stores, and soon many didn’t have enough supplies to survive. With
the fields fallow and the port cut off… Well, it’s been rather
horrid.”

“
But you two don’t appear
to be suffering.” Umma said.

Soren blushed and Qala looked away. “We
tried to bring as many as we could into the emergency shelters in
the hills. They were designed as a last refuge, a place our leaders
could go to.”

“
So you’ve been hiding
from the people, keeping yourself fat and healthy.” Umma had to
test the two and her barb did just that. Again, the hotheaded Qala
shot her a fierce glare. Umma concluded that if Rava hadn’t been
present, Qala would have already tried to kill her. Soren, who had
been rather meek thus far, twisted his face and his blushing from
shame turned to a clear rage.