Chapter 23: It's a men's world...

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Elian of Arania stood on the pier, surveying the murky waters of the harbour of Cherbourg. Shivering, he pulled his leather jacket closed. It was still summer, but the temperature was nowhere near the searing heat of his natal country, and the cool breeze was not helping. Eventually, he noticed the Aranian flag floating proudly on the mast of one of the new coming boats, followed by a long line of others: his brother’s reinforcement army.

They were late, as he only recently managed to secure the Duke’s alliance for the use of his ports. The men would disembark and rest for a few days, while he would go ahead and meet the King of England. The English coast would be the closest refuge, should they fail in their invasion plan and have to fall back. The Welsh and the Scots were part of the Celtic Alliance with their powerful Irish neighbours, and had too many commercial and blood ties with Helland to betray them. There was something in their genes that had allowed a larger part of their population to survive the Black Death, and the Alliance still vaguely considered their descendants as extended family.

He would have liked getting them on his side: they were strong warriors. The only human peoples to allow their women to fight, maintaining an old tradition. He should know: his mother was Irish, a captured soldier, bought as a concubine by his father.

From what he heard, she hadn’t submitted to him easily, only surrendering after loosing an honour duel, thanks to his father’s wife. The scheming princess had kindly informed her that the law allowed war prisoners to fight for their freedom, in hope to get rid of her husband’s last love interest. But her plan had backfired; the king had used his concubine’s ignorance of a particular point of the Aranian rules to win, and gained her pledge of obedience. Unfortunately, his victory was short lived, as she died giving birth to their son.

Elian owed her his lighter than average skin, dark blonde hair and hazel eyes, that made him stand out in his father’s court. The half-blood prince, his brother liked to call him when they were younger, whenever they were alone. These were the good times, Elian thought sarcastically, his beloved brother had now moved on to some more definitive forms of bullying.

Propelled by the wind turbines, the vessels approached the crumbling concrete walls, beginning the docking process.

Sha’tan technology, he noted, the exact thing his brother wanted to get his sticky hands onto, despite pretending that he only aimed to rid the world of evil. Helland owned the knowledge and kept it jealously. Their university trained technicians to replace parts on the machines, yet they were the only ones able to build them, and those things didn’t come cheap. Getting the blueprints and forcing Sha’tan engineers to work under his control would bring Arania, and more specifically his wicked ruler, wealth and power.

Easier said than done, Elian thought with a scowl. He had to promise shares of the bounty to all his new allies to obtain their goodwill, and the whole expedition had cut a large dent in his brother’s treasury. If he were to fail, he’d rather make sure he was killed in battle.

Sighing, he considered his chances of victory once more. They would have the strength of numbers, but he wished he had more reliable information on Helland’s lines of defence. He had some insight from a counsellor imposed on him by his brother, who claimed to have lived amongst them, although he clearly didn’t have any military knowledge. That was strange: only Sha’tans were allowed on the main island. Also, there was something off with that man; he was a slimy character, always keeping his head low, with long, greasy hair falling over his forehead and hiding his eyes, and displayed an overly servile behaviour. Elian was frequently wondering if he wasn’t leading them into a trap.

And then, there was the issue of the troops. He was concerned that many of them would desert or flee in battle once they knew for certain where they were headed. A lot of them believed in bedtime stories and Sha’tans were the bogeyman in many of them, pictured as fanged night creatures or demons. These views were supported by most religions and those who didn’t had placed them on a pedestal.

Elian shrugged; this was pure superstition. He even doubted that they were still carrying the disease that had them banished half a millennia ago; after all, for centuries, no contamination had been recorded, despite the White Sha’tans travelling the world as very expensive bodyguards. Yet the laws still banned ordinary Sha’tans from leaving their island, as they could be easily mistaken for humans. Then again, as they didn’t have the shimmering silver skin that identified their fellow islanders immediately in a crowd, who was to say that they were not already living among them? He smiled; such a theory would cause widespread panic, if made public.

Elian had to admit he was curious; he had never seen any of the famous White Mercenaries, as using their services was banned in his country. Would they live up to their reputation? Or was their amazing speed and healing abilities just part of a myth? From what he heard, highwaymen usually chose to avoid the confrontation, unwilling to test their skills. He hadn’t found anyone who had actually watched them in action.

There were decidedly too many unknown factor in this mission, and he didn’t like it. He had a bad gut feeling about the entire thing, it was rushed. His brother’s greed blinded him, but he had nothing to loose: whether Elian succeeded or not, the King would be the winner.

 _________________________________

Ray Powers strode through the heavy doors of the Council Hall, wrapped into whatever was left of his dignity. Not much obviously, considering he had just made himself the laughing stock of all the Lords Councillors. Things could hardly get worse.

This morning, he had woken up to the most appalling news: the army had just approved a professional contract for Dana Sand, current Master of Arms and Moon Lady. Some idiot must have been distracted, she had been denied one several times. It was already bad enough that he had to wait another couple of months before she was delivered into his hands, there was no way he was going to sit on his projects for two more years. He already had enough trouble explaining the delay to his customers.

Fuming, he had irrupted into the Council room, interrupting the ongoing meeting. He frowned: on second thoughts, this might not have been the brightest move. The pompous bastards had seemed rather annoyed at his behaviour.

He had then proceeded to express his indignation with an appropriate level of vehemence, although he had to admit that a few curse words and interesting bird’s names might have slipped out here and there. Not that they would have noticed anyway, considering that he was slurring more than a bit. Fermented grape juice for breakfast certainly had side effects, but fruits were healthy, weren’t they?

The worst had been Lord Chen’s reaction. Rising from his seat at the horseshoe shaped table, he had spoken slowly, with simple words, as if explaining something to a particularly dumb child, stating that they were legally bound to approve Dana Sand’s contract, as she had won the contest. He had dismissed Ray’s furious protest regally, stressing the fact that the subject wasn’t open for discussion. The Moon Lady wouldn’t be available any time soon. And they couldn’t prevent her from competing and winning again either, so he might as well get ready for a very long wait, the Councillor had smugly added, to Ray’s horror.

His facial expression must have been somehow comical, as they had all started laughing, pushing him to a hasty retreat.

What to do now? He was stuck in a very bad place. His inventions couldn’t be tested and his actions were closely monitored. Another abduction would land him into serious trouble. Damn these old fart! If they thought he was just another fool that they could control easily, they were in for a rude awakening. He would soon prove them that he could cause serious damage. And he had a fair idea how.

He smiled wickedly. They seemed to have easily forgotten his access to classified information and what he did for a living. His business ties would come in handy. All he had left to do was to get a girl.

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⏰ Last updated: Aug 05, 2013 ⏰

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