Day Sixteen
PRINCE MATTHEW DREUS
I surveyed the coastline, marking highpoints on my map where we could erect towers for the mirror relay. It was how my father communicated with Queen Tiadoa and Ambassador Wentz in the Highlands; a series of mirrors aimed at each other over great distances from great heights. There used to be a relay from Ardeni to Alkandra, but it had been destroyed centuries ago. I didn't imagine we'd ever have to rebuild it, even after Yavara had revealed her identity. Alkandra was a pipe dream, and it galled my father that Prestira Rasloraca had gotten roped into it. Her death was a tragedy, but it wasn't unexpected.
What was unexpected was the letter we'd received from Zander's ethereal owl two weeks ago. The Ten had been united, a Froktora had been elected, and a horde of nearly a hundred-thousand had been raised. Furthermore, the famed ranger Thomas Adarian had been mutilated into some kind of dark-elf monster and turned traitor to become the governess of Alkandra. Zander expected us to make contact with her (
her
for God's sake!) and set up an embassy. And that was all he wrote. No explanation, no clarification. With no means of replying to him, we had to decide whether or not to heed the letter. Ultimately, the phrase "a horde of nearly one-hundred-thousand" got Father's attention. We had used Yavara as a tool, thinking her easily disposable. I was to ensure that the sentiment didn't become mutual.
We rounded the bend, and there, at the mouth of the Alkandran Bay, was the city of beasts. I was impressed. Not by the city itself, for the castle and towers were rather short by my standards, and the single urban strip that made up its downtown would count for any one of a thousand streets in Ardeni. No, it was the speed of construction that had impressed me. I'd voyaged this bend not three months ago, and there had been nothing at the mouth of the bay but ruins. If my understanding of the timeline was correct, the castle had been built within a month, and everything thereafter had been built within a fortnight. It was industry on a mass scale, a full nation mobilized for a singular purpose. And it was a nation now, there was no doubt about it. After a thousand years of back and forth between the Highlands and the Lowlands, the Midlands had finally been claimed, and it was the Midlanders themselves who had claimed it.
The ruby gem on my mirror lit up, indicating that I had a call. I directed the navigator to sail us back to sea. Nautical mirror communication was dependent on how many ships were between the caller and the receiver. Every ship had a mirror on its masthead, and so a relay could be formed from ship to ship. In high-traffic areas like along the Lowland coast, all one had to do was sail out into the open water, and without the coastline obstructing the view, a chain would be formed to the port of Ardeni Dreus. I'd rounded the Alkandran Horn ten days ago, and so communication had been impossible with a mountain range between Ardeni and me. If our flotilla hadn't been slowed by the unwieldy trade barges, the whole process would've taken a quarter of the time, but alas, money took priority over politics. The blue gem on my mirror illuminated, and I palmed the glass.
A spindly man came into focus, a bored expression on his face as he methodically tapped the mirror.
"Brannon, to what do I owe the pleasure?" I asked.
The man practically leapt out of his chair when he heard my voice. He collected himself, and dawned his usually scowl. "Prince Mathew, we have been trying to contact you for ten days."
"And I rounded the Alkandran Horn exactly ten days ago. Did Father have you tapping that glass day and night?"
"We've been working in shifts." He sneered, then left without a word.
A minute later, King Albert Dreus's visage came into focus.
"Father," I said, "I am about to make contact. Why did you call?"
"There's been a development." He said, his face grave, "Ambassador Wentz is dead."
I paused. "Should I... turn the ship around then?"
"It wasn't one of Zander's agents who did it. Lord Ternias got sloppy and exposed Wentz, and Leveria disposed of him. There's no action we can take here; we got caught with our hand in the cookie jar."
"And Ambassador Straltaira? Is she dead?"
"No."
"So that proves that she's Leveria's agent."
"That's not what Lord Ternias thinks. He believes she works in the best interest of Queen Yavara."
"Straltaira was captured and tortured! How could she not be Leveria's agent?"
Father stroked his beard. "I've never seen Elena Straltaira, nor any of these so-called 'hybrids,' but from what I've heard, they're not to be trifled with. If Elena is operating with the autonomy Ternias proclaims, then that only proves it. You will need to be very careful with them, Mathew."
"I will be."
"I received a call from the dwarven trade emissary. News of Yavara's military reached his ears yesterday, and it spooked him. He won't be trading with us through the Midlands until he has a diplomat in Alkandra."
"Well, maybe we'll get lucky and the two armies will just massacre each other."
"Doubtful. We're going to have to keep hedging our bets, which means you'll have to make concessions. Good relations with Alkandra are immediately paramount. If Yavara's army prevails, the most powerful nation on Tenvalia will be right next door."
"And in case Yavara's army falls, we keep our support behind Ternias."
"Ternias is becoming unreliable."
"Then who do we hedge our bets with in Bentius?"
Father stroked his beard again. "Do you know what the current line of succession is for the Highland nobility? Tiadoa, Ternias, Straltaira."
"You can't possibly mean... they would never... what the hell would she even be? Queen? King? Both?!"
