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99. King to King
🕑 Added 2024-11-06 23:01:42 +0000 UTCMark had collected some of his best men and made sure they were armored in the best armor and equipped with the finest weapons before leaving for Xaarn. He would be introducing himself as a king, and appearances were important.
Flying into Xaarn, they took in the sight of a dozen ships and many smaller boats either docked in the harbor or anchored in the bay beside the smallish town.
Still, compared to Winterclaw, it was a bustling city filled with commerce. But Mark knew both sides had something to offer one another. For all the trade and activity within Xaarn, it was a city-state and not a particularly big one.
Landing on the grassy hill behind the town, Mark ordered his people out. In the usual casual fashion of Xaarn, no one came to greet him.
Mark wondered if the little island even had a means of defending itself if the Imperium had come knocking. He had spotted ballistas and other weaponry on ships in the harbor but doubted any of them could hit a throne ship. Even with limited firepower, a few dozen ships could cause havoc in the city and then return to the Imperium.
Mark wondered if it had something to do with the balance of power. He remembered reading about examples through history of smaller nations surviving around larger ones, thanks to their more powerful neighbors deciding that it was best for everyone to maintain the status quo.
Waving his soldiers on, Mark began walking toward the town, and four guards holding pikes greeted them at the edge of town.
“King of Xaarn, Edarn Donez, requests that you visit his estate,” one of the men said.
“Precisely why I came,” Mark smiled.
“This way,” the guards said, turning to lead Mark and his entourage through the narrow, sunkissed streets.
***
Leaning back against a plush, red cushioned chair, Edarn Donez twirled his manicured brow between his fingers.
“Good to see you again,” Mark said with a short bow.
“As to you, my esteemed guest. However, I am really quite curious where your Imperator suit has vanished to.”
“A lot has changed since we met. People now call me the King of Dawnheim. Uniter of the Frontier and clans of the north.”
“Oh,” Edarn tilted his head in surprise. “That is quite the title. I suppose that makes us a couple of kings, and this a royal meeting.”
“I suppose it does,” Mark nodded. “Between kings, I was hoping we could come to some agreements.”
“Please continue.”
“Right. Well, as you probably know, we’re a little isolated from the world. Since the Imperium left our lands, no trade has come in or out of our land. This is a big problem for us, and it would seem like Xaarn is the perfect partner to help us solve it.”
“Trade is what we excel at. But the thing about trade is that it normally goes both ways. Please, enlighten me, King of Dawnheim, what are you planning to offer Xaarn?”
“How would you like to build your own boats?”
Edarn’s brow twisted in curiosity.
“Like I thought,” Mark smiled. “We need trade, and we need boats ourselves, but we can’t build them. However, we do have plenty of land and plenty of timber. My suggestion is that we build a port town on my land and a shipwright with it.”
“And where does Xaarn come into all of this?”
“I want you to build it.”
“Me?” Edarn placed a hand on his chest. “Do you see an army of builders around here?”
“I’m sure you can figure that part out, one way or another. What I’m offering you is partial ownership of the shipwright. It would give you the ability to build your own ships, which I have to imagine would be a valuable asset for a little island town with big ambitions like yours.”
“Interesting proposition, I must say. However, what leverage do I have to ensure you don’t decide to just take it all for yourself once the construction is complete?”
“Leverage? Do you have something in mind?” Mark probed.
“Hmm,” Edarn flailed his hands. “Let me think. It needs to be something binding. I don’t suppose you have any children?”
“Unfortunately not,” Mark said, not that he would have handed them over if he did.
“That is unfortunate,” Edarn soberly nodded. “I suppose you also require me to find skilled shipwrights for this town on top of building it?”
“I do,” Mark nodded. “Surely that shouldn’t be too difficult for someone of your esteem?”
“No, of course not. But it won’t come cheaply. What you suggest is a serious investment that I’ll have no control over once completed. Quite a risky venture for me,” Edarn strummed his fingers against the table.
“I could exchange it for our first trade?” Mark offered. “I’ve got storerooms full of furs I need to offload.”
“Furs?” Edarn nodded thoughtfully. “Now that is promising. Okay, it’s a deal. However, if you fail to uphold your end of the bargain, know that it will come at a price. Don’t forget that Xaarn is the pirate capital. The great kingdoms and empires know how we work, and we have a great relationship. You see, we target those who are problematic, and if you become my enemy, you will become very problematic,” Edarn shot a toothy grin at Mark.
“Understood,” Mark nodded firmly.
So, that’s how they maintain their place in this world.
“You have a deal, then,” Edarn leaned forward and shook Mark’s hand. “I shall have ships prepared. It will take me a little while to organize shipwrights, but I have enough favors that it shouldn’t be too hard to recruit them. However, we will need help with the settlement.”
“That’s something I can do,” Mark agreed. “I’ll have builders and supplies brought down to the site,” he added, pulling a map from his coat.
“Oh, so you’ve already selected a site?”
“Right here,” Mark said, pointing to the map. “The map notes that the bay is deep—well, and deep enough for a port. The surrounding mountains and passage should make it easily defensible, and while the space is limited, I doubt that will be an issue for quite some time.”
“Not bad,” Edarn agreed. “Not that you had a lot of options from looking at this map. Still, this is workable. Navigable islands, too. Alright, I shall have my ships anchored in the bay here. Don’t let me down now, Mr. King.”
“Don’t sweat. This will be the greatest deal you ever agreed to.”
**Scouts**
Delving deeper into the cave system, signs of habitation grew, but whoever lived there was absent.
The scouts carried torches while the knights held their swords at the ready, with Callum prepared to zap anyone foolish enough to attack.
“I didn’t expect it to look like this,” Erin commented, eyeing primitive tools left lying around a chamber as they passed through.
The Daggers were a beehive of life and civilization. Thanks to the volcanic action below them, they were warm and inviting in the far north of the Frontier, where permafrost gripped the land. There were species of fungi, moss, and even small trees that had grown to prosper in the environment, providing the species found here with abundant food.
The Western Mountains, where the Wamandy clan could be found, were actually part of the same mountain chain as the Daggers, although they were greatly removed and not navigable through the tunnels, caves, and paths that linked the hundreds or possibly even thousands of micro-communities throughout the Daggers.
Callum wasn’t entirely sure what his king’s plans were for this place, and even though they had yet to make proper contact with those who lived here, he got the impression that the mountains would be very important for Dawnheim’s future going forward.
The vastly populated, poor, and frozen expanse of the Frontier would struggle to compete against the larger human kingdoms as it was, regardless of how well they won a few battles. But if they could find a means of harnessing the potential and power of the Daggers, then perhaps they could elevate their fledgling kingdom into something great.
“We still haven’t found any signs of them, captain,” one of the scouts turned to Callum. “Perhaps he should head back?”
“No, we move on. Even if we don’t find the trolls, the information we are gathering about this place could prove invaluable to the kingdom.”
“A-are you sure?” Clay stammered.
“We’ll be fine, Clay,” Erin reassured. “He got Callum and his Imperator suit.”
“Ha, you’ve also got me,” Radic thumped his chest. “The greatest warrior in the kingdom.”
“Yeah, right,” Erin rolled her eyes as they passed from one chamber to another.
“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” Callum commented, eyeing the stone ceilings that disappeared into the darkness, the natural vents that lined the far wall, spewing up heat from far below, and the bridges of rock that connected subterranean platforms with one another. “This is the true wealth of the Frontier,” he murmured.
“You think?” Erin scrunched her nose.
“Look around. I’m not sure why the wargs even want that frozen waste with all this.”
“It’s deeply religious, I believe,” one of the scouts said.
“Deeply foolish,” Radic corrected. “When you’re up against the likes of me, at least.”
“Would you shut up,” Erin groaned. “Like just for a few minutes at least.”
“Hey, quiet,” Callum raised his hand.
The group went silent. A drip echoed in the distance.
“What?” Radic said.
“Shhh!” Callum hissed.
“Fine.”
Silence followed for a long moment, interrupted only by the drip and then the echos of hundreds of footsteps.
“Ahh, what is that?” Clay shook his head.
