Fear's Union

Chapter Five

—Kantal—

Kantal looked out at the ocean. It was like a sheet of glass. No, it was more than that. It was like a highly-polished sheet of steel, the mirror of his intent. He gripped the handle of his great-sword. She was coming with him, and he would be needing her.

The ship cleaved its way through the ocean, moving steadily towards unfriendly waters. The sky above was as clear as the sea below, and that was somewhat unfortunate. All five moons were proud in the sky, and that meant his fleet was illuminated. Clear to see. Even the Father of Paths was prominent, if a bit ghostly, and that moon was rarely bright these days. But maybe that was a good thing; the God of Fortune was watching over him. After all, he'd always been lucky. That was why he'd always been so bold.

His mischief sailed steadily into being, and he smiled.

Reports had come to him before he set sail twelve nights ago, and more had turned up since. The birds arrived on a daily basis. It turned out that gulls were remarkable creatures. He'd never imagined they could offer such value, but out here, isolated as they were, the birds were a lifeline. His plan was unravelling perfectly.

The Mikaetans had descended upon the Bloody Gash in numbers not witnessed for a generation; to the north of Ahan, the Gorfinians were pushing through the Death's Cowl; and to the south, Ahan was well and truly tied up in knots. A huge Delfinian host was meandering its way along the border, threatening an assault. An attack may be madness, but it still made the enemy nervous and, importantly, it drew them from the heartland. He chuckled. It really was devilishly genius. While Ahan was being drawn to the three gates that it so coveted, he was sailing to the soft underbelly, carried by stealth and subterfuge. He would strike them where the effect was greatest, at their capital, and they would not know until it was too late.

Nazalia was a last moment stroke of genius. The Mandahoi were always a concern; always. He should know; he hadn't earned the nickname Mandestroy without understanding their bite. And they were too numerous and too effective to ignore, but two dragons would do the job nicely. Actually, they were sendeté, whatever that meant, but it didn't really matter. The point was this: the beasts would tie the Mandahoi in knots. They had cost a fortune, but they were worth every gold stallion he had paid. They would wreak havoc for days to come.

A commotion broke his concentration.

"Land afore."

The cry came from the main mast, the voice breaking from just below the highest sail. They were nearing his mischief and he rubbed his hands together.

The crew of the Mithras burst into life, and the sailors slipped smoothly into action. They scurried up the ratlines like a swarm, seeking out the highest points of the ship. Moments later the night air was filled with the soft whispers of 'aye'. What was with that stupid dialect? He'd spent most of his life fighting his own common twang, but the sailors seemed to covet their quirky tongue. He wanted to lord his mastery of language over them – he'd never been in a position to do that before – but out here, at the mercy of the punishing ocean, the sailors were the masters. He bit his tongue.

He peered into the night but couldn't see a thing. As far as he could tell, the entire horizon was a single smooth black line, but the ship marched on, and he finally noted tiny black prominences. The Pillars of Samal. That was his gate to Altunia, the back door that would cost a small fortune to prise open. But when his devilish scheme succeeded, he would regret spending none of his king's money. Ahan would fall, and the fee would be repaid a thousand times. He'd dreamed of it for so long that it tasted better with every imagining. And it was almost here. He was finally pushing his purpose. Finally, after all these years of scheming.