The Conquest of Kiynan

Hendrik stood at the bow of the Brilliance, a small sloop belonging to the Inventor’s Guild. As the dominant guild of Spire, they had taken it upon themselves to set an example by assisting the King, no doubt also hoping to be remembered once the kingdom was regained. Hendrik shook his head; Spire had baffled him. Although founded by the Gaurvians, primarily populated by Gaurvians, and officially under the rule of the King of Gaurvia, Spire nonetheless operated as its own kingdom. There was no nobility in Spire; instead of being ruled by a Regent appointed by the King, as in Brockton and the other Gaurvian cities, Spire was ruled by a Governor, elected by the guilds. Spire dutifully paid taxes to the King, but otherwise paid him little mind. The city had begun as a simple trading post, established to encourage trade between Gaurvia and the Sea Tribes. However, the Sea Tribes were so eager to trade, the small colony grew rapidly as more and more people were attracted by its prosperity. First the Qume and then the Ornish also began to come to Spire to trade, as it was more conveniently located than other markets. Hendrik had visited Spire when he was very young, and he remembered how amazed he had been at seeing the vast number and variety of ships docked in Spire’s marina, as well as the sight of that mysterious tower the city was built around. Spire’s continued growth and success had led to the establishment of the guilds, each regulating a certain area of trade, to ensure fair trade and proper tax collection. There were initially five guilds: grocers, metalsmiths, artists, carpenters and weavers. As Spire continued to become more and more cosmopolitan however, a number of clever entrepreneurs took advantage of Spire’s uniquely open-minded environment to introduce handy technological achievements. First came the mobile ox-powered cranes, still used today to load and offload ships. Next came the oil streetlamp, allowing merchants to safely continue trade past dusk anywhere in the city. The inventors became quite wealthy rather quickly, even managing to avoid belonging to any guild and hence, in many cases, also avoiding paying taxes to the King. The King promptly established the Inventor’s Guild, which became and remained the most affluent and influential guild. When the Gaurvian civil war began, Spire’s inhabitants, being uninterested in the power struggle to begin with, disassociated themselves from the rest of Gaurvia in the interest of continuing trade unimpeded. The first Governor was elected, to replace the Regent who had run off with some mercenaries to take part in the fighting. When the war ended, Hendrik’s father, the young Rigar Stoneworth, chose to honour Spire’s decision rather than attempting to subjugate them. As they made no attempt to withhold their taxes, which had always been an important part of the King’s revenue, Stoneworth granted them loose independence.

Nonetheless, Hendrik was surprised to see how the city operated. It was one thing having the unusual situation explained to him by his mother, it was another matter to meet citizens of his Kingdom who scarcely knew who he was. Hendrik reflected that, despite its unorthodoxy, the situation had the advantage of Spire remaining effectively neutral, regardless of what happened. That meant it was a safe haven for Hendrik now that his rule had crumbled, and furthermore, that it was filled with wealthy people willing to assist him.

“Excuse me, your majesty,” came the unctuous voice of Crosio the Languid.

Stoneworth turned to face the diminutive, middle-aged man. He was a translator, fluent in Berish, Qume, Ornish and Ganec, the language of the Sea Tribes, in the employ of the Inventor’s Guild. The Guild had loaned him to the King along with their boat, and although Hendrik was grateful for his assistance, he had quickly come to dislike the man. Crosio always regarded people, who were usually taller than he was, with his chin raised, so that he looked down the length of his nose at them. He never seemed to fully open his eyes, no doubt why he also never seemed to blink them. What irritated the King the most however, was the man’s frequent and extreme mood swings.

“Yes, Crosio,” replied the King, trying to guess what mood the translator was currently in.

“I thought it might be helpful if I were to tell you a bit about the leaders of the Tribes. Although I have no doubt you are greatly knowledgeable, I have spent a great deal of time dealing with them, and can surely give you a few tidbits of information you are not aware of. Since you do want to make a positive impression, every detail can help.”

Hendrik fought the urge to roll his eyes as Crosio droned on, but managed a diplomatic tone to answer.

“Of course, anything you could tell me would be helpful.”

“Our course will take us first to Ilnt, the most heavily populated of the islands. You may have heard about the Ilnt’s reputation for naiveté, but let me assure you, Mamos Vita Pomindi does not exhibit that characteristic of her people. In fact, she is easily the shrewdest of the Sea Tribes’ leaders. If we can convince her to join our struggle, it will almost guarantee the assistance of the others, the only obstacle being Mamos Igo Tofagip of Fayl. He is a good-natured man, but he can be very stubborn. He fervently shares his people’s belief that they have a sacred duty to defend the fire spirits inhabiting their volcano. He will not easily be persuaded to leave his island. If he refuses to join, the other leaders may hesitate, and possibly reconsider.

Our best angle to use to convince them, is the fact that we will be fighting the Qume. Although the Qume have a common history with the other Sea Tribes, they have long considered themselves above the other Tribes. They were the principal instigators for much of the warring that went on between the islands before the arrival of the Gaurvians. A great deal of animosity still remains between the island Tribes and the Qume. The Qume are too powerful for the other Tribes to fight, but now that they have committed themselves to helping the Iceborn battle the Gaurvians, they have spread themselves thinly. This presents a unique opportunity for the Tribes to exact vengeance.”

Hendrik became increasingly interested as the translator spoke. Apparently, Crosio knew a great deal more useful information than Hendrik had given him credit for. The two of them rehearsed what arguments to use when they met the Mamos of Ilnt, until the small ship arrived at its first destination.

Half a dozen warriors, dressed in bronze helmets, greaves, vests and carrying pointed oval shields and short stabbing spears, stood on the beach waiting to greet Hendrik and his retinue. A noisy pack of children, wearing only loincloths, ran in circles around the stiff soldiers, weaving between them, laughing. Crosio, Darryan Fleetfoot, Vikor Seastrom, and Simion stood behind their King as Hendrik greeted the warriors. They offered him a formal greeting in their native tongue, which Crosio translated. As soon as Crosio finished, the soldiers turned and formed two parallel lines, on either side of the Gaurvian ambassadors, and began to march. The Gaurvians marched along with them.

“They are escorting us to the Mamos,” Crosio explained in a whisper to Stoneworth.

On the edge of the beach began thick, lush jungle. A broad path had been hacked through the trees to allow passage for a large group. But it was clear the jungle continually tried to retake the narrow strip of land. Hendrik gazed in wonder as they walked into the darkness in the shadow of the great forest. Looking up, Hendrik noticed that virtually every tree and plant around him bore exotic fruits and nuts. In the treetops, many natives could be seen with large sacks and blades, gathering bountiful harvests.

The walk was long, but finally, the group arrived at the Mamos’ palace. A wide ring of vegetation had been cleared around a central cluster of trees. Built around the branches of the mighty trees, well out of bowshot from the ground, was a collection of wooden platforms and cabins. Their escort guided the Gaurvians into the tree cluster, under the imposing construct. The soldiers stopped as they neared a large rectangular platform, connected to the palace above them by eight heavy ropes. Another bronze clad soldier stood near the centre of the platform, at attention, and perfectly unmoving. He carried no weapons, but instead held a length of rope in one hand. Crosio motioned to the others as he walked away from the warriors and took a position standing on the broad platform. Hendrik and his retinue followed apprehensively, and gathered around Crosio near the centre. The Ilnt man gave a solid tug on his rope, provoking a loud gong sound that drifted around the clearing. Stoneworth and the other Gaurvians glanced around skittishly for a few moments, uncertain what to expect. Suddenly, a creaking sound was heard, the eight ropes around the platform snapped taut, and the whole thing jerked upward. The platform rose into the air, giving the visitors a grand view of the clearing. Stoneworth watched as their escort shrunk to the size of a child’s plaything below them. Fleetfoot let out a strangled whimper as he closed his eyes and grabbed onto Simion’s arm for support. Abruptly realizing just how high up he was, Stoneworth felt his stomach twist.

The platform rose into a large cabin, constructed around the trunk of one of the trees, and perched upon its branches. The nobles stepped lively off the platform, then sought to compose themselves as Crosio and Simion casually wandered off. Around the hole in the floor where the cabin’s floor snugly hugged the tree, stood eight bronze clad men, each holding the end of a rope. Stoneworth admired the complex pulley system the ropes dangled from, until he heard Crosio clearing his throat conspicuously. The King looked over at the translator, who nodded emphatically at yet another armoured soldier. This one’s vest, greaves and helmet were stained a dark red. Hendrik turned to face the newcomer, and Crosio spoke to him in Ganec. The red guard nodded, turned crisply and began walking around the immeasurably wide trunk at the centre of the cabin. The Gaurvians followed him to the far side of the tree trunk, where the cabin had no wall. A wide wooden bridge stretched across the gap to the next tree. Although solid in appearance, the bridge creaked loudly as the armour-clad warrior stepped onto it. Stoneworth and the other nobles hesitated as they peered down over the side of the bridge. Even Crosio appeared nervous. With a disdainful snort, Simion stepped gingerly onto the bridge and walked off after the guard, shaming the others into stumbling after him.

On the other side of the bridge, they walked into another cabin structure, but this one was much larger than the first. A throne was set with its back to the trunk of this tree. On it sat an ageing woman, dressed in a regal gown. Her hair, a uniform silvery grey, stretched down to her waist in a tightly knit braid. In a wide arc around her stood a dozen soldiers. Their armour shone as gold and on their breastplates were moulded a fiercesome beast, pouncing toward the observer. At the end of a short steel chain held by the Mamos, was a live version of the beast that had inspired the decorations. At first glance, Stoneworth took it for a man dressed in black, but as he looked at it now, he saw that it was larger than a man. Its body was covered in fur of the purest black. Its face was flat, except for a slightly protruding snout. It lay at the foot of the Mamos’ throne, groggily eyeing the newcomers. It raised itself to its feet and stretched, curved claws unsheathing from its fingertips, as long lean muscles pressed against its skin. It yawned, opening its jaws wide, revealing sharp canines, before settling down again. The monkey-like creature uncoiled its long, thick tail and twitched it as it regarded the Gaurvians with an appraising glare. After letting them admire her pet for a few moments, the Mamos began speaking.

“Welcome, King, to my home,” Crosio translated quickly, “I have been expecting you.”

“Thank you, for speaking with me,” returned Stoneworth, unable to take his eyes away from the black predator.

“Do not concern yourself with my guhro,” relayed Crosio, as the Mamos laughed at Stoneworth’s expression of embarrassment.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” stammered Hendrik.

“Of course you haven’t, they are native only to my island. They are perfect hunters. They have perfect vision, even on the darkest night. They swing through the trees more quickly than a horse can run across an open field, and more quietly than a gentle breeze. They drop down upon their prey, and kill it before it even knows it is in danger. Their jaws can snap a man’s neck with one swift, painless bite,” the monarch’s tone sounded as though she were gloating as she described the creature’s efficiency. “But, they are nocturnal, and rather lethargic during the day,” she added as she affectionately patted the animal’s hindquarters.

“A fine choice as a symbol to represent your people,” spoke the King, nodding toward the small Ilnt banners hanging limp from the back of her throne.

He finally managed to tear his eyes away from the animal and looked into the Mamos’ piercing, brown eyes. She gave a little shrug, dismissing his flattery.

“I have come here to offer you an alliance—”

“I know why you are here,” interrupted the Mamos, speaking to the King directly in fluent Berish. “Your kingdom has fallen and your army has been destroyed. So, you are desperately seeking any help you can rally to regain your power.”

Taken aback, Hendrik glanced at Crosio, whose face had gone white. Stoneworth looked back to the Mamos, trying to draw himself up, recalling his prepared arguments.

“The simple fact is this, King, your people have never helped mine or any of the other Tribes. Moreover, you lord your power over us as though we were little more than savages. My people are safe, we have everything we need and desire, and the Iceborn have shown no interest in us whatsoever. So tell me, why should I have my hardworking people die so that you can return to your life of luxury?”

“It is not only the Iceborn that attacked my kingdom. The Qume—”

“Ah, so you want to exploit that old bitterness between the Ilnt and the Qume,” interrupted the Mamos again. “King, it has been many lifetimes since we fought the Qume. Whatever bitterness remains is foolishness. The Tribes live in peace, and it has brought us prosperity. We are not interested in risking that prosperity for the sake of an old grudge.”

Hendrik was at a loss for words. His preparations had been for nothing. He glanced over at Crosio, but the translator was staring at his feet, shuffling uncomfortably. Stoneworth turned back to the Mamos, suddenly reminded of his mother. Vita Pomindi had the same strength his mother had possessed, a calm, self-assured strength that inspired confidence. He missed her then, and more than anything else, he just wanted to speak to his mother again, one last time. She would have known exactly what needed to be said.

“To be frank, Mamos, I do not care about my old life of luxury,” he answered tiredly. “In fact, I would prefer not having to worry about ruling anyone or anything. I could gladly abandon my power and begin a life as a tradesman or a farmer,” Stoneworth noticed his advisors shifting their weight anxiously. “However easily I can disregard my power, I cannot disregard my responsibility to my people. They are suffering now, dying at the hands of the Iceborn and Qume invaders. Their homes are being burned, their crops destroyed. They need me. But I cannot save them without your help. I am not asking you to restore me to power, I am asking you to help me save my people.”

The Mamos’ expression changed from one of mocking scorn, to one of thoughtful appraisal. She shifted in her seat while she stared at him intensely. Finally, she spoke again.

“Perhaps I have misjudged you, young Stoneworth. You swear then, that if you regain control of your kingdom, you will appease the suffering of your people?”

“Yes, I do,” replied Stoneworth immediately.

“And what of your enemies? Will you show mercy to those who showed you none?”

Again, Stoneworth was taken aback. His focus had been to rid his lands of the Iceborn. Now, he considered for the first time what would become of those invaders if he defeated them. Would he execute them all? Enslave them? Punish them? Torture them as they had tortured his people?

“I am no killer,” he answered at last. “I seek to end suffering, not to inflict it on others.”

Pomindi nodded slowly. She leaned over to scratch her pet on the head. After a few moments, she rose to her feet and paced in Stoneworth’s direction.

“We have had dealings with the Iceborn in the past. Although it was long ago, we have not forgotten. They are cruel warriors, and no people deserve to suffer under their yoke. It is true that their dominance in Gaurvia and their alliance with the Qume have caused me concern, for once their conquest of Gaurvia and Paladia are complete, the Sea Tribes would not have the strength to repel them should they still thirst for war.”

She turned away from Stoneworth and stepped methodically back to her throne. The chamber was unsettlingly quiet, save for the sound of her regular footsteps. Finally, she reached her throne, spun around abruptly to face her guests and sat stiffly upright. She addressed Hendrik solemnly in Ganec. Startled to alertness, Crosio translated.

“Hendrik Stoneworth, rightful King of Gaurvia, I pledge the might of Ilnt to your cause, that together we may right the injustices your people have suffered.”