Nattas

Matters of urgency

Novesium’s great market was a sweltering cauldron of activity. You could hear its noise coming through the open window. It was a big city, located at the southern edge of the great Jelin continent, between the lesser rivers Misty and Emerald, deeper in the Scalding Sea that any other city of the old Kingdom of Regia. It belonged to the greater principality of Cartagen, the Kingdom’s capital.

On a good summer day like this the city’s population swelled with people coming to trade from the Kingdom of Lesia and the lands of the far North. While Cartaport, the grand city port near the Capital, absorbed much of the attention and numbers, enough were directed to the warmer and more relaxed port of Novesium. Gradually this remote part of the kingdom had become its third largest city and one of its more important ports, famous for its market and trade of exotic products.

And brothels, Storm Nattas thought staring at the top of the girl’s head pleasuring his cock. Best return investment business in the whole fucking kingdom.

“Almost there…” He groaned, feeling his left leg twitching again. “…keep working the tongue.” The twitch turned to a low tremor and he fought it with all his will, at the same time trying desperately to keep his mind empty to enjoy a very expensive orgasm.

“Where is he?” Sudi said outside the room he’d rented.

“Faster,” He whispered to the young whore, left fist stabbing hard on his twitching leg to stop it. Almost there damn it.

The sweet release started building up and Storm closed his eyes to fully savor it, nails digging hard in his thigh as the girl worked its magic with long sucking sounds.

The door burst open and Sudi walked in, a half grin on his dark Issirian face. Storm Nattas flinched away astounded, the girl losing the grip on his cock. The flushed brothel patron followed soon after him, a couple of clients looking in from afar.

“Boss.”

For fuck’s sake.

Storm watched in disbelief his cock shrinking fast, eyes darting from the girl’s shocked face, to that of his enforcer. The feeling was gone.

Half a-fuckin-Eagle down the fucking drain.

“My lord—” Sudi started.

“Get out! Everyone get the fuck out now!” Storm Nattas bellowed cutting him, sending the naked girl to follow the brothel patron out the door. She had a fine arse, he thought watching her run away. Had I gone for that and not… ah, damn it.

He gathered his breeches silently and hobbled to the table he’d left his cup of wine earlier under the eyes of his waiting man. Downed the remnants in a go and burped. Not Flauegran by any stretch of the imagination, but it was a decent local vintage, he decided trying to calm himself down.

“There are some matters of urgency,” Sudi said not helping his nerves at all.

“They better!”

“The ship is waiting at the docks my lord.”

“What ship?”

“The one he named.”

Ah.

“Couldn’t you wait a couple of minutes to tell me that?”

“Well I didn’t know his lordship was busy. You said to call on you the moment he started talking.”

“I also said I wanted to rest and unwind for a couple of hours before that,” Storm growled. “Now, having found out I was in this particular establishment, didn’t it occur to you I might be otherwise occupied?”

Sudi grimaced. “I can call her back.”

“I can have you whipped instead,” Storm retorted. “Right now it will give me much more pleasure. How about it?”

Limping his way down a crowded King’s road wasn’t Storm’s idea of fun, especially with so many newly-arrived cretins rushing their way towards the city’s baths and gardens after being sardined in a ship’s hold for days. King’s road was what the locals called the main road running through the city’s center, leading straight from the harbor to the famous gardens.

Most days it was packed with people and animals, carts and carriages, a terrible horde that rarely paid attention to a slow-moving person such as himself. Getting knocked down by an overzealous mouth-breather and then trampled over by a horse-drawn wagon filled with lettuces, was a terrible way to die.

So they took the East road instead, leaving the brothel via a side door and walked past the market and its colorful crowd. Sudi leading the way with Storm following him at a gentler pace that didn’t stop him from getting overheated fast. It was a hot day and his expensive thin linen doublet embroidered with the red squid, the sigil of his order, soon became drenched in his sweat. Storm realized that he was hurrying behind Sudi following the pace set by him unwittingly.

“Stop!” He cried earning a surprised stare from a man wearing a ridiculous hut. It probably protected him from the sun though, he decided after a second look. It managed to sour his mood ever more. Sudi approached while he was standing under the inadequate shade of a house next to the Vice-Admiralty building.

“Ship’s right there,” He said, dark skin seemingly unaffected by the strong early-noon sun. Sudi had the grey hair of the mix-blooded Issirians. What that mix was Storm had never bothered to ask. Light green eyes, dark skin and unscarred face. He looked younger than Storm despite being over forty, which was five years older than him at least.

“Will it leave the harbor?” He asked, taking a deep breath.

“Not without your say so.”

“Exactly,” Storm Nattas said using a silk handkerchief he produced out of a pocket to wipe the sweat off his forehead. “You can inform me of the proceedings in the meantime, while I take a break that is.” His leg started throbbing again, but he kept his discomfort out of his face.

“After some expert probing,” Torturing, Storm translated. “He said the man boarded a ship out of Raoz ten days back heading for Atri on the Free Isles. Then probably either Caspo-O-Bor or Eagleport.” Sudi said casually examining the passersby.

“We knew that.”

“Well, the new stuff is that he never made it. His ship was caught in a storm. Went straight for the bottom story goes.”

Abrakas helps us again, Storm thought with a smirk.

“So he’s dead?”

“He doesn’t know for sure. The ‘Queen’s Pride’ is carrying the few survivors. Maybe one of them saw him go under.”

Storm frowned.

“Maybe I should question our informer.”

Sudi shook his head. “I don’t think he can divulge any more information.”

The informer is dead. Unsurprisingly.

Storm smacked his lips. “What do you think? Is the man alive?”

Sudi shrugged his shoulders. “Anything is possible.”

Great, Storm thought. Another philosophy quote from our refined Assassin.

“I suppose talking to them might help.”

“Probably,” Sudi said in a tone that indicated he didn’t think so.

Storm Nattas hated ships almost as much as he hated horses. Their decks were always shifting this way and that under his feet, much like the animals. It made it difficult for him to stay up straight without holding on to something and he hated feeling this vulnerable. One of his legs, the left one, was shorter than the other, which gave him a particular gait when walking on flat surfaces. If the ground underneath him was stirring even gently, staying on his feet was a chore.

Cursing he grabbed a chair with both hands and tried to hear the rest of the sailor’s story. But he couldn’t concentrate hard as he tried. He was too hot, nerves tensed from too long a journey on horseback the previous day and his earlier visit to the brothel left him irksomely dissatisfied. If only I’d avoided the accident, he thought glaring at the nervous mumbling man.

It’d left him with a shattered bone in his left leg; a Dottore put it all back together, a painful, lengthy procedure that still gave him nightmares, despite it being almost twenty years from the event. When the bone had healed the leg was shorter somehow. If only, he thought grimacing as the limb throbbed, the pain always there nagging him. I would have been a Knight, riding in tourneys and performing one great deed after another, desired by blushing ladies and admired by their lord husbands.

It was a dream of course and he’d known enough knights in his life that the luster had faded away some but still…

Storm Nattas sighed letting it go. He needed something to drink as soon as possible.

Sudi looked his way puzzled.

“My Lord, you wish to ask him anything?”

Storm stared at the sailor. Utnas, the obese Cofol working for him had roughed him up some, for no particular reason. Violence came naturally to him. The man avoided his eyes, preferring instead to stare at his well-made boots. Or perhaps he’d noticed his leg, Storm thought with a frown. He produced a silver coin from a pocket and placed it on the table between them.

“Get yourself cleaned up. Eat something,” He told the man keeping his voice neutral. “Find a good whore to spend this and forget about this conversation.”

“Yes, my Lord Nattas,” The sailor said quickly visibly relieved. He grabbed the coin and hurried out of the cabin. With a head nod Storm sent Sudi after him.

“I want a good whore too,” Utnas complained clenching his fists, like a petulant child. “I always get the ugly ones.”

“How about we go eat something instead?” Storm offered and watched as the large man licked his lips at the thought. “There you go. Help me get out of this damn ship first.”

They’d settled inside an expensive restaurant on West Street owned by an Issirian. He served a delicious crisped cockerel stuffed with mushrooms and chestnuts, supplemented with roasted potatoes dripped with orange juice. A good bottle of Flauegran helped Storm repair his bad mood somewhat. Utnas finished his portion in record time and went for a second plate.

“So where is Titus?” Storm asked him. Utnas shrugged his massive shoulders. “Probably serving some wench on my coin.” He noted sourly.

“I don’t know.”

Storm sighed. The big fellow was useless in conversation. He had some more of his wine, thinking about the day’s business. You don’t give the brooch to a simple envoi, he thought. Something more important was afoot here and he’d missed it. The Grand Duke of Raoz was a vassal to Antoon the 2nd, Foremost King of the three Kingdoms, the tenth Eikenaar to sit on the golden Wyvern’s Throne, since the new age had begun two centuries ago. The Grand Duke’s Shield was the elderly Sir Elliot Reeves, Lord of Altarin.

The man wearing it, the one sent by the Duke barring an unforeseen turn of events and spotted on the ship before it went down, wasn’t that old. To this all the witnesses agreed. Storm finished the wine in his goblet still pondering on who the mystery man was, when Sudi entered the crowed restaurant and walked casually to their table.

“Well?” He inquired.

“It’s done,” Sudi replied sitting down in the empty chair and helping himself to a healthy portion of potatoes and meat.

That’s one mouth that won’t be speaking against me, Storm thought, pleased the matter was out of the way.

“Where’s Titus?”

“He’ll meet us later,” Sudi replied simply.

Great.

“This reminds me of home,” Sudi said between bites.

“You frequented analogous establishments back home?” Storm mocked him.

“Not really,” Sudi replied readily. “Redshark docked earlier by the way.”

“Captain Brakis warship?” Peter Brakis was the son of Admiral Stan Brakis, Regia’s Master of Sea, Baron of Ilirium and a member of the King’s Council.

“Aye.”

Storm smacked his lips and reached for the bottle to refill his goblet.

“Hmm, I’m thinking maybe we ought to avoid the ‘young Kraken’ altogether,” He said mostly to himself. “Depart before he spot us. I don’t like people meddling or gossiping when in the mid of an investigation, especially before sniffing out where it could lead us.”

Time to move on.

Sudi raised his head sensing his mood. “Can I finish first?”

They cut through the alley connecting West Street with King’s Road, passing behind the large Central warehouse facing the harbor, intent on reaching the stables attached to the Vice Admiralty building as discreetly as possible. They’d left their mounts there and Storm was eager to reach them and leave the city behind before word of his presence spread. Walking fast wasn’t his forte and soon he was huffing and puffing trying to stay near his assistants. He was forced to stop next to a city bulletin board to catch his breath and rest his hurting leg just as a public servant finished pinning an opened scroll on it. Storm read the first lines indifferently while his assistants approached him but then he frowned and narrowed his eyes.

“You should move out of the sun… something the matter my lord?” Sudi asked stopping next to him.

“Horses are that way.” Utnas pointed sweating miserably in the middle of the King’s Road. Storm groaned frustrated, left hand rubbing his stiff leg while the other motioned towards the big Orc.

“Get this idiot moving, before he’s run over,” He hissed and Sudi stirred swiftly to pull Utnas to the side and out of the main street.

Storm turned his eyes to the pinned scroll again, the bold characters hurting his eyes.

“What is it Boss?” Sudi asked sensing his discomfort.

“There will be a tourney in Riverdor,” Storm answered slowly, still thinking on all the different angles and scenarios this could go horribly wrong. “Knights and Lords from all the lands are invited by the Foremost King of the three Kingdoms Antoon the second, to duke it out for the chance to earn the tourney’s immense prize.”

“Riverdor has tourneys every year,” Sudi noted oblivious. “And his highness is quite fond of the games. It is known.”

“Every fool lordling and their mother will be there,” Storm spat grinding his teeth. “As for his highness fondness for games… well, I don’t believe his Royal sister will partake in the festivities with the same enthusiasm.”

“Princess Elsanne?” Sudi asked surprised still not getting it.

“Aye. Antoon the fool offers to the bloody winner her hand in marriage! She’s the prize.”

“Difficult to say who the winner could be,” Sudi admitted.

“That’s exactly right,” Storm agreed.

“Could be anyone. Even worse, could be someone we don’t like.”

Abrakas mouldy cockhead!

This is terrible timing, Storm thought eyeing the head of his horse, a sturdy mild-mannered male Palfrey, he’d never named.

“How far is it to Riverdor?” He asked Sudi and his assistant patted the mane of his own smaller horse named Nat, before answering.

“It’s seven days to Demames. Another six to Aegium. Ten days to Alden. From there a score to Riverdor.”

“Can’t we make it in a month?”

“More than a month surely. Two score of days depending on the weather is the faster, way I see it. And without killing the horses.”

“Tourney is in three weeks. Let’s say four, if they dilly-dally a bit. We’ll never make it in time. How the fuck we missed this?”

Sudi shrugged his shoulders. “We can still make it, before it’s over.”

“I hate travelling,” Storm murmured. A month on horseback will probably kill me, he thought.

“We could take a ship.”

“I hate puking even more and humidity hurts my bones.” Storm snapped.

Abrakas curse us all.

“It’s faster.”

Storm puffed hard. “We travel by land. Ship can only bring us to Aldenport anyway. Nah. Plus we can use the birds to keep up with the news.”

He clicked his tongue and the horse started moving forward at a comfortable pace. It was kind of pleasant to get off his feet for a while, he decided. Sudi rode next to him a moment later and cleared his throat before speaking.

“We’ll need to go faster than that my lord.”

Storm wished he carried a sword to run him through. “I’m just letting my animal get his legs under him,” He blurted frustrated. Sudi nodded with a smirk and pulling at the reins he turned Nat away and set him at a slow trot with a smart order, Utnas and his Courser following right behind him. Murmuring under his breath, Lord Storm Nattas, Master of Silence for King Alistair Alden of the Kingdom of Regia, went after them.

Two weeks later the small party stopped at an inn outside the small port city of Illirium. It was a popular place for those using the coastal road, a day’s travel from the great harbor of Aegium just behind them and a good ten days before they reached Alden. They have travelled with few stops only to sleep and eat, trying to keep a low profile and Storm was weathered down already.

“You think Titus reached Alden?” He asked the seemingly unaffected by the road Sudi. The dark-skinned Issirian finished his ale before answering.

“I think so.”

Maybe I should have opted for a ship, Storm thought grimacing. His back felt broken and even the mere thought of climbing back up the saddle made him physically ill. He held a small rolled up scroll in his hand, delivered to him by a local official but he was too drained to read it.

“What does it say?” Sudi asked.

“Another list of participants I suppose.” They had received a number of messages after he’d instructed his agents to learn as much as they could. Multiple birds were sent in response following his progress along the coast of Regia and were delivered to him whenever they stopped at a place his agents could reach him. He unrolled the small scroll and read the tiny text with little difficulty. Thank the gods his eyes were still strong, he thought frowning at the content.

“Well?” Sudi inquired watching him mulling it over.

“Both of the older Alistair’s sons will participate.” King Alistair had three sons from his first wife Vasia Davenport and a daughter Sylvie from his second, Miranda. The latter was his cousin, an Alden from Aegium and he’d married her after he first mourned for the untimely death of his first wife for half a dozen years.

It’s quite enough.

“So the King convinced Lucius to participate?” Sudi asked with a smirk. “That will be a strong match though. Princess Elsanne will help his mood lift for sure—”

“Some say Ralph is the better jouster.”

“Pfft. The puppy won’t stand a chance if the Bloody Tiger sets his mind on winning this.”

Storm scratched the stubble under his goatee, he needed a shave desperately. A bath also. Not much time for even the simplest of comforts on the road. His eyes stayed on the names written in the scroll, trying not to think about the whore he’d left at Novesium.

“Lots of good fighters will attend. Sir Rupert Holt of Asturia, Sir Colin Davenport apparently the heir to the Kingdom of Lesia, just to name a few.”

“Lucius has unhorsed Sir Rupert twice far as I remember and the Davenport boy is how old? Sixteen?”

“Eighteen.” Storm cleared his throat. “Lucius hasn’t fought for some time now.”

“Matters not. If he wants to win, I bet on him. There’s some good coin to be made here.”

“You appear rather certain I see.”

Sudi refilled his goblet and had a generous swig before replying.

“You’re not?”

“Fighting skill isn’t set in stone. Every season brings something new, people grow old or weary. Lazy. Bored. As I said, lots of fighters. Issirians for one. Sir Robert Van Durren of Badum, Sir Rik De Weer of Scaldingport, Sir Walter Van Oord of Castalor, Sir Ton Van de Aest of Caspo-O-Bor, Sir Reggy Crull of Eaglenest and even Sir Maas De Hoff of Tollor.”

“That the Lakelords guy?”

“Aye.”

Sudi whistled. “Impressive list, I give you that. They seem determined to keep Princess Elsanne to themselves. Can’t blame them. If the young Eikenaar heir kicks the bucket they might have a decent claim to the Wyvern’s Throne. That’s big enough incentive to risk a limb or two, I say.”

“King Alistair will like one of his sons there better. On the throne.” Storm pointed rereading the message in case he missed something.

“I’m sure he would,” Sudi said finishing his ale, then added. “What do you want?”

“I don’t want a war coming too soon.” Storm said.

“Maybe it won’t come at all.”

“You know better than that.”

“Hmm, I decided long ago to leave all speculating to you Lord Nattas,” Sudi stopped seeing his expression. “What is it?” Utnas entered the inn at the same time and headed their way.

“There’ll be a Cofol attending the games,” Storm said speaking carefully. “A Prince. They list him as participant.”

Sudi glanced towards Utnas approaching. No one spoke before the large man had taken his place at the table.

“Utnas,” Storm asked. “Is the Prince as big as you?”

“Which Prince?” He asked puzzled.

“The Prince of the Khanate you fool.” Sudi scolded him. “He came to fight at a tourney, unless those idiots handling the birds fucked it all up.”

“Prince Sahand is of Royal blood. I grew up near Wochcki Castle.” Utnas replied confused.

“Okay. Is he of marrying age? A good fighter?” Sudi insisted.

“The Prince is married to Lenar, the Moon of Dan. Everyone knows this. He’d never come to fight for a woman. He would ask for her to be brought to him. The Prince of Rin An-Pur will be the greatest Khan, when his time comes.”

“Well, she isn’t just any woman,” Storm Nattas noticed deictically. “And this one is apparently another Prince. The Prince of Jade Lake it says.”

Utnas frowned, his scarred face contrasting as if in pain.

“Jade lake is a cursed place,” He said finally. “I don’t know this Prince.”

Storm stared at Sudi to see his reaction.

“Fancy title. A younger brother perhaps?” Sudi said after a moment.

“We need to know more,” Storm rustled unhappy. Sudi started laughing. “You find the situation amusing?” He asked him in a-no-nonsense kind of way.

“We need to get on the horses my lord,” Sudi replied undaunted. “At this pace, we will never make it to Riverdor before the winter. In that case, us learning more about the tourney, will not matter at all.”