Return of the Stormcriers

CHAPTER 44 - ENGINES OF WAR

Even as night waned and the early morning sun bathed the world in its first rays of light, the leading voices of the resistance were already deep into preparation for the coming meeting with Governor Bradley. They had hardly slept more than a few uneasy hours since they had arrived at the outskirts of Shaleport the night before last. There was too much to be done to lose any time on luxuries such as sleep.

  The soft blue light of early morning illuminated the deep green and pale amber colors of the intervening grassland that stretched between their camp and the large seaside city. Sunlight glittered off the small white-capped swells of the ocean, twinkling on the horizon. The previous day's breeze still lingered, carrying with it the incongruent, yet somehow complimentary smells of salt and decaying seaweed. A lone pelican circled slowly over the waves, searching for its first meal of the day. Smaller birds chirped peacefully to each other, oblivious to the engines of war parked beside their perches.

Below the camp, the port was already a bustling hub of activity, despite the early hour. While the other gates into the city were closed tight at nightfall, not to rise until the morning hours, the portcullis that led to the dock was only kept shut for the quietest hours in the middle of the night so as to disrupt commerce as little as possible. Sailors worked quickly and loudly, loading and unloading the ships moored at the pier while the watchful bonfire at the top of an old, battered lighthouse burned bright against the last remnants of nightly fog. The majority of the activity centered around the three largest vessels, the kind usually owned and operated by the richer merchants of Verden, to other major port cities such as Brighttower, Stormcliff, or even over the Kabehkan Sea to the Isles of Zähler and beyond. A smaller ship, roughly half the size of the biggest three, pulled slowly away from the docks, propelled by large oars that extended from rowlocks on either side of the ship. It would be propelled arduously by hand until it was far enough out to sea to find a strong enough wind to fill its sails.

  On the large grassy hill above the city, the now usual gathering of dukes, Hal, and Ezrael watched the morning movement of Shaleport closely. They had scarcely looked in any other direction since the moment they dispatched the page to set up their meeting with Governor Bradley two nights before. Since the initial contact, the young man had been sent back and forth for the better part of the prior day as terms were set for the face to face inside the governor's tower. Unsurprisingly the governor had reacted angrily to the menacing presence of the resistance's forces on his doorstep but as a single city facing so large a host he had grudgingly agreed to a meeting. It had been deemed too dangerous to send a duke into the city without a large contingent of soldiers for protection, so after much debate, Zachary had been chosen to represent the resistance.

"Guard yourself well Zachary," Duke Percival cautioned, placing a hand on his son's shoulder as the younger man cinched tight the straps of his leather armor.

  "I will, father," Zachary reassured the older man. "My guards will keep me safe." He gestured towards the ten burly men encased in heavy, plated armor that stood at attention around him.

  "I cannot help worrying about my son," The tall, grey haired Duke said gently, his bright blue eyes misting with pride and concern behind his glasses.

Zachary patted his father's hand, "It is a good sign that Governor Bradley accepted our offer of dialogue at all, and without harming so much as a hair on the head of our page. He will not have me set upon by his men."

"Be sure to stress to him that if he chooses to join our cause he shall remain in his seat of power," Duke Lucas added from beside Zachary's father.

  "With a man of our choosing to remain at his side to ensure he does not dare to cross us," Duke Carter quickly added, never one to leave loose ends.