Open Chronicles Bloodied Purple

[Gerra]

The deck of the Jayiza rocked back and forth with the rolling waves. Pools of blood sloshed about, drying into the wood in the noonday heat. Vaanes wiped his blade free of viscera with a cloth and stepped over the bodies into the cabin.

"Tzimi, what have we recovered?" he asked, voice as hard and edged as his sword.

"You Allirians. Always so impatient."

Vaanes glowered at the dark skinned man, who wore only a vest and baggy trousers, typical of Aina O Ka La. It was a wonder he wore anything at all today.

"You're the navigator. I'm the captain. When I say jump, you ask how high. When I ask you a question, you give me an answer."

Tzimi clucked his tongue and smiled, knowing as Vaanes did that nothing could actually be done to him. Good navigators were not so easily come by and Tzimi was the best in the western seas.

"It lucks like we've struck gold, no?" Tzimi tossed Vaanes a rolled up chart.

Vaanes unfurled it, stared, and blinked a few times. "This shows the shipping lanes for every Tyrian vessel for the next two months."

"Better than gold. Diamond, eh."

"We can't hit all of these shipments alone."

"Time to tell Alarak?"

Vaanes grimaced. "...Yes. And all the Brethren. Back to Cerak."

* * *

In two weeks time, they descended like a swarm of locusts on the Gulf of Annuak, dozens of pirate ships from Cerak At'Thul, slaughtering or enslaving merchant crews and capturing hundreds of barrels of precious Tyrian dye.

 

[Xaviera]

The tabletop featured a topographical map of the region, from the Seret Mountains to Tel-Madu, from east of Ragash to the sea, featured Tyria near its center, a proud golden tower arising from the spot to signify the palace in which the map table sat. Tyria was written in an elegant script in a semicircle around it. Annuakat was nearby, itself framed in an identical script, but featuring a broad golden ziggurat instead.

"This is the fifth shipment in two weeks," the Queen observed, feeling rather stupid as she did. Her slender frame leaned partially over the table. An X carved from wood and painted black was placed in the blue of the sea, northwest of The Horseman. "My advisers..." she said, casting a gaze towards the older men standing a few paces away from the table. "...tell me that though piracy is to be expected, the force and success of these attacks against our trading vessels are unprecedented in recent history."

She paused and felt her fingers tighten on the edge of the table as she gripped it. Her knuckled burned white. "This is not an acceptable answer," she informed them without looking back. "Our naval forces are too thinly-spread to escort all our merchant ships?" One of her advisers nodded and muttered an explanation. "Well, how soon can we build more ships? Do we have the men to sail them once they're built?"

The advisers hesitated. Xaviera had enough. "Go and get the answers to these questions," she said, waving her hand dismissively. The group of advisers began to shuffle out. The Queen turned to the other side of the room where Azmelqar had stood separate from the complacent old men. "Azmelqar, please stay for a moment."

 

[Ava Gilleth]

Alabyad Palace, Ragash

Ava closed the door of her room and leaned against it with a heavy sigh. There were days, when the palace was too much, when the love that Gerra was showered with made her eyes roll so hard into her head that it hurt. Not that she didn't believe in Gerra, he'd clearly earned that seat and had a great future ahead of him, but such unfaltering devotion to a man they had raised to the status of a god made her feel slightly ill. Maybe it was jealousy. Or maybe she just found it unnecessary. Whatever the reason, she needed a moment of peace and her bright room in the east wing granted her just that.

She scanned it carefully, as she did every time she entered or left a room. Everything was as she left it. The thought made the tension ease out of her shoulders and she pushed herself off the door and made her way across the room to settle at her writing desk, picking up her half finished letter to Harrier. She let the intricacies of the Empire fall away from her mind and delved instead into the complexities of the first law and the ways of circumventing it that she had discussed with the Necromancer in Crossroad Mire.

No sooner had she settled into the chair, and dipped her quill into the ink than a crow flapped noisily into her sanctuary, landing at the foot of her bed and cawing incessantly. Ava threw her quill at it, succeeding at nothing other than splattering ink over her sheets. "Of all the birds to send me." she complained before extending a hand for the bird to land on. "Pigeons might be stupider, but at least the noise they make doesn't make me want to break their neck." The bird simply cocked his head and clicked his beak impatiently. She removed the scroll from its ankle then threw the bird back towards the window. It took off with another angry caw and drifted into the background noise of the city beyond the palace walls as Ava read the note.

Five shipments lost in the last two weeks to the Bretheren. Tyria may yet crack.​

Ava closed her fist about the note, smoke curled from her fingers as she burnt it, dusting the ashes from her hands, she swept her gaze over her room and left it, barking orders at the nearest servant to ready her horse and send word to Maho 'Jerik' Sparhawk that she was coming to see him.

 

[Azmelqar]

Azmelqar lingered on the outskirts of the ring of advisers, still warring with himself whether it was best to look perfectly aloof or perfectly concerned. He frowned and scowled at various points, expressing the same displeasure as everyone else.

It was unfortunate that celestial movements had little bearing on the situation. Otherwise he may have been of greater assistance.

He was prepared to shuffle out, when the Queen requested he - in particular - remain. Azmelqar stood perfectly still, withstanding the withering glares of the other advisers as they made their exit. Once they were gone, he folded his hands in front of himself, and allowed himself to breathe a little more easily.

"Is there something I can be of assistance with, Your Majesty?"

 

[Xaviera]

The Queen of Tyria felt older than her years, and at the same time young and foolish. Too young and indeed too foolish to be Queen of Tyria. Yet and still, here she was, the sovereign's coronet having landed squarely on her head. Figuratively; she wore no coronet today, anyway, which was good news as it would surely have been sliding off her head as she leaned over the map table. Her brow furrowed in worry as she straightened and beckoned Azmelqar over with the crook of a slender finger.

She turned her attention back to the black X's that dotted her map. "They," she said, half-nodding dismissively to the door through which the advisers had exited, "tell me there is no pattern here, and I confess that I do not see one either. But that does not mean there is no pattern. Just that we do not see it." She frowned thoughtfully, then glanced sidelong at Azmelqar, as if realizing that he was still there.

"Forgive me, Maester, this must be obvious to one such as yourself," she said with a deprecating smirk. "But I must puzzle these things out for myself. I asked you to stay because I feel I can trust you - probably more than... all the rest of those men," she said, her lip curling in derision. "They want to tell me what to do - not how things are, not why, just what to do." The Queen's eyes fell back to the map. "Perhaps it is my age or my sex, but I cannot imagine that they ever dealt with my father in the same way. When I ask questions they look at me as if I have sprouted a second head. At any rate - the reason I asked you to stay is - do you think we should hire someone? A mercenary band to escort our traders until we can deploy an improved navy?"

Her eyes continued to trace over the Xs, the cities, the coasts and the seas. What is the pattern?

 

[Azmelqar]

Azmelqar shifted his weight from one foot to another, fingers twiddling with one of the gilded rings affixed to his mustache. "They most assuredly did not, Your Majesty," he said, clarifying first whether or not Xaviera's current treatment had any precedent with her father.

"We may yet have the funds to hire mercenaries, but..." He looked away, towards the direction of the door, as if checking to make sure no one else was around, "...This may not be a long term solution. As I understand, several of those shipments were not matters of public record, which could be attributed to random happenstance, or, ah..."

It was not, generally speaking, a polite thing to do - suggesting to a Queen that spies were crawling all over her kingdom like ants on a carcass. So he merely trailed off, clearing his throat towards the end there.

"Pardon me, Your Majesty," he said, glancing back to Xaviera apologetically. "These pirates represent a threat to all of Amol-Kalit, so perhaps if we offered to join our neighbors in combating them, we may see better results without having to rely on such unscrupulous sorts."

Then again, wasn't it just the singular neighbor now, thanks to that Fire Giant? Or Half-Giant. Half-Fire-Giant.

 

[Xaviera]

The young queen was silent and still for a few moments, her dark eyes fathomless as she studied the table without seeing it. She understood his meaning regarding spies; the un-published nature of some of the shipments had been lurking on the edges of the conversation, but now it had been dragged to center stage, the floor lights illuminating every wrinkle and crag. But his comment quickly took its place, and she rounded on him, her eyes wide like a madwoman.

"Do they?" she asked quietly. "Do they really?" She inclined her head thoughtfully, looking up at the ceiling absent-mindedly, looking for all the world like she was trying to remember something. "I've heard nothing of the kind - which isn't dispositive, I suppose," she amended. Xaviera brushed a strand of hair from her forehead, tucking it gently back beneath her coronet and paced towards her adviser. "Can you make inquiries? Discreetly, of course. If they haven't been impacted, I don't want them to know what our situation is. The way you hear my father talk about it, Annuakat wouldn't let our misfortune go un-leveraged - and that's to say nothing of the rest of our neighbors. I don't know if his paranoia was justified, but it wouldn't do to ignore his caution."

She imagined for a moment that there was a network of clandestine court wizards trading intelligence somewhere; the thought festered and the young Tyrian queen had to wonder what her own wizard might have told his fellows if such a forum existed. The thought sobered her and she turned to hide a scowl. "If they are plaguing all of us, then perhaps some kind of league is in order. But if they are not, then perhaps there is something else at play here. I don't know what that might be. Damn their eyes, I need more information!"

At this last, the Queen pounded her fist against the table, rattling the ships and other icons. She took a slow breath in and turned. She didn't notice that in her frustration, she had toppled the tower representing Tyria into the sea. "Tell me true, Azmelqar, if you can make these investigations or if you know someone you trust who can."

 

[Ava Gilleth]

Jerik had been kind enough to provide her with a small flotilla, not enough to take on a pirate problem, but enough to make a statement of importance. She was, after all, representing the Empire and its God Emperor, a term that still made her want to roll her eyes. Gerra served his purpose, as would his followers and what they believed, idiotic or not, she would have to endure. The falcon on her shoulder ruffled his feathers stirring her attention from her own thoughts to the scroll in her hand.

Three of our own shipments taken. Bretheren have secured ledgers.

Ava sighed, closing her fist around it and reducing the note to ash, the sea breeze swept it away from her. She was not at all surprised by the news, if her own sources were correct, then this was intentional. After all, pirates targeting one nations ships but not another? That would be awfully suspect. Besides, it made her trip a little more plausible.

The captain of the Divine stepped up beside her. "If this wind keeps up, we'll arrive long before dark."

"The wind will keep up." she replied, turning to regard him carefully. "Tell me about the shipments we lost last week." He blinked, the only sign that she had caught him off guard. Credit where credit was due, this one had a good face for card games.

"I'm not sure what you are talking about, Vizier."

"Of course you don't, what was I thinking? How would a Captain know about pirate attacks on the very waters he sails?" Now he looked uncomfortable. "Lying to me has been known to decrease a persons lifespan, Captain, and people like you are easily replaced. So, would you like to try that answer again?"

He pondered this for a moment, meeting her gaze, assessing whether the threat was real or not before answering. "The cargo itself, is not a great loss, however it is my understanding that the captain had ledgers for movements of our fleet for the next month at least."

"How easy would it be to change those movements?"

"Not very, it takes a lot of planning and reaching the captains is even harder. They'll be hit before a bird could reach them."

Ava nodded slowly. "Do you have a copy of these movements?"

"Aye, in the cabin." He turned away heading for the cabin. Ava dislodged the falcon from her shoulder before following, watching it soar to the crow's next and settle there.

Xaviera