Fourth Vector Ch. 28

Before Dustin could answer, Greg let out a heavy sigh. "I know this probably complicates things a bit."

Dustin smiled grimly. "Just a bit."

"Are you . . . ah, are you going to be all right? Where's your head at right now?" asked Greg.

Dustin shook it. "If I knew, I'd tell you. Does it bother me? Hell yeah, it does. Knowing my people are killing guys in this uniform doesn't make anything easy."

"I didn't think it would," said Greg quietly.

"And it might be a different story if we were back in Java," admitted Dustin. "Not to say I condone this kind of thing, but there's not exactly any love lost between our people."

"No. That there isn't."

"But what we're doing here is a little more important right now," said Dustin finally. "And if anything, this mission becomes even more important with Jack being gone—wherever the hell he is."

"So are we still good?" asked Greg with a small smile. "I don't have to worry about a mutiny on my hands now, do I?"

Dustin chuckled. "I'll keep things in line. With myself and with the other Tyroleans in our force. It might not hurt to keep a tight clamp on the news right now. You know, just as a precaution."

"Good, I agree with that," said Greg. "I only wanted to tell you because of your position. I thought you should know."

"Well, I appreciate that," said Dustin who went silent for a moment.

They continued to walk through the city. It was Dustin who spoke up next. "What a time to be alive, isn't it? Tyrol, Occitania, and now all the stuff here. We live in interesting times."

"That we do," confirmed Greg. "I guess it's better than peace though. Old war dogs like us aren't meant for peacetime."

Dustin chuckled. "I don't know what I'd do with some desk job or a warm bed every night. I might fuck off just to go find some war that I could fight. It's just not in my blood."

Greg laughed and elbowed the other man. "Good thing for us then. I doubt we'll see peace any time soon."

"Good," said Dustin. "I know I won't get bored then!"

They continued to walk through the city. In front of them, two women crossed their paths on their way to the marketplace. One of them was quite attractive, drawing Dustin's eyes. Greg couldn't help but chuckle as he noticed it. He had to admit that Dustin had good taste. The woman was particularly well-built and had curves in all the right places. He made a note to go back to his quarters early tonight for a chance to grab some alone time with Vera.

Perhaps that was why Dustin's next question caught him a little off guard.

"Can you name them for me? What towns?"

Greg's eyes rolled up in thought. "Just off the top of my head. Wallny was one. Tyrite, of course."

"Tyrite used to be the capital city so that doesn't surprise me," said Dustin.

"The other one I heard was Amboy."

Dustin grabbed Greg's arm. "Amboy? You're sure about this?"

"I am. Do you know where that is?"

Dustin snorted. "Know where it is? Hell, I'm from Amboy!"

*****

The formal robes of the Swabian emperor were itchy.

The material that they were made from was as soft as silk could be without actually being silk. But every time it pressed against Avila's bare skin, he felt that subtle urge to scratch.

It was made even worse by the fact that he couldn't just scratch it. Not while he was holding court. The sight of a scratching emperor was unbecoming, and so to get around it, he took frequent breaks to step into a quiet room and scratch to his heart's content.

It was a small price to pay for the emperor's throne but it was one of many adjustments that Avila was getting used to now that he ruled in Dagobern.

As for now, the new emperor sat on his throne (and tried not to itch) listening to Lord Eba of Klevic profess his undying loyalty to him.

"Your Majesty, my house and my lordship are at your service," said Klevic, groveling at Avila's feet like simpleminded fool that he was. "I look forward to many years of prosperity under your prodigious rule."

"My Lord Eba, I'm delighted to hear of your loyalty," said Avila as he resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Sycophancy had a place in his court but it usually didn't extend to those that were once his enemies. Eba had been one of those lords that had been firmly in Aurelius' court. More than once, Avila had listened to Eba call him a "bottom-feeding vulture" to the old emperor. For those reasons and more, it was hard to accept his professions at face value.

"I've always long known that you would try to unseat that old doddering fool Aurelius," said Eba as he made a disgusted face at the name of the deceased emperor. "A pox upon his name! I should hope that better days are ahead of us."

That statement had been one too many. Avila's lip curled upward in a moment of cruelness. He saw his chance to bring the Lord of Klevic down just a peg.

"How funny it is that you mention his lack of finesse for the imperial throne," said Avila softly as he leered at Eba. "Do I not recall that you used to be quite close to Aurelius? Were you not, oh what is the term I'm looking for . . . a bottom-feeding vulture to the old emperor?"

The color from Eba's face drained away rapidly. The man actually began to tremble.

"M-my lord, I've always—"

"Your Majesty," corrected Avila.

"My apologies, Your Majesty!" said Eba as he backed away from the throne. "I was most certainly not a vulture to the last emperor. Perhaps you have me mistaken for someone else."

"I rarely forget a face," said Avila with a chuckle. "Especially one of a rat."

"I can assure you that I will be most loyal to you, my emperor," said Eba.

"So you will be my bottom-feeding vulture from now on, is that correct?"

"Of course, Your Majesty!" Eba bowed again as if that would emphasize the point.

"I'm just delighted to hear it, Eba," said Avila before he gestured to the door. "Now get out. Go back to Klevic where you can't bother me any longer."

If the man could have run away, he would have. Avila watched as he scampered out of the throne room like a man who'd just shit his pants. Even the newly appointed members of the Guard snickered as Eba left the room.

"How in the world can a man like that proclaim to be a lord of Swabia?" asked Avila rhetorically.

Swabian lords were supposed to be pillars of strength, aggression, and charisma.

Eba of Klevic had none of those qualities.

Avila dipped his head forward and let the imperial crown fall off his head. He set it to the side, giving his neck a break from the heavy metal. He had at least ten minutes before the next visitor arrived, which was likely to be General Ferberg with an update on the strength of Avila's army as well as a report on the new composition of the guard. In the meantime, Avila rested his hand against the side of his face and tried to close his eyes.

So far, being emperor had been tremendously boring. It had been nearly a month since Aurelius died and nothing interesting had happened in that time beyond getting the fealty of the remaining lords. There had been no news from Picardy—something that aggravated him to no end since he had so many of his soldiers fighting there. Likewise, the Swabian navy had nothing to show for their time at sea, and the effort to find the remains of the Picard/Carinthian naval force hadn't been fruitful.

He needed something to look forward to. He needed a victory of some sort.

His prayer was answered moments later when his servant, Otto, came rushing into the room.

"What now, Otto?" asked Avila as he shut his eyes once more. "Who else is trying to get an audience with me?"

"That list is long and ever growing," said Otto as he stepped up to the throne. "But I have good news. Actually, it's rather surprising news all together."

Avila cracked a single eye. "And? What is it?"

Otto cleared his throat. "Your cousin sends word, Your Majesty."

Both of Avila's eyes opened quickly. "Adalbert?"

Otto nodded. "A message just arrived from him. He asks if Your Majesty remembers the mission he was given last fall? He claims to have been successful."

That had Avila's attention.

"Successful? Why that mission was to capture Jack Easterbrook," said Avila while blinking several times. "Alive, not dead. You're telling me he has the man?"

Otto nodded. "That's what he claims. He's on the Swabian cruiserTollwitz as we speak and they are sailing for Dagobern. His dispatch claims that Jack Easterbrook is imprisoned below deck."

Avila pursed his lips as he thought about that message. There was no way he'd expected Adalbert to actually succeed in such an impossible mission. He was hoping that the allied forces would kill Adalbert when he stepped within ten feet of Easterbrook and thereby prevent Avila from having to shed the blood of his own family. Before Otto entered the room, he was almost certain that Adalbert might be dead since no one had seen much of him since he was deposited in Zarah almost six months prior.

But to find out the man actually succeeded? That was very . . . interesting. Unexpected for sure, but interesting nevertheless.

"Perhaps Adalbert isn't as much of a screw-up as I thought he was," said Avila. "When are they due to arrive?"

"Another week or so," answered Otto. "Your cousin will be stopping in Naxos today for resupply before continuing on to Dagobern."

"He'll be just in time then," said Avila. "My coronation is slated for next week. As is a visit from my most important ally."

That ally would be Eric Rosdahl himself. It was the first time in history that a Swabian emperor had a friendship with a Galician ruler, but Avila had found an able partner in the likes of Rosdahl, going so far as to invite him to his coronation. He was delighted when Rosdahl accepted, and this would be an excellent time to showcase the capture of his foreign interloper.

"Tell Adalbert that he did well for himself," said Avila. "And then tell him to proceed to Dagobern with all speed. I want to make sure he's here in enough time for the coronation. Oh, and transfer him some coin while you're at it. Let him start to enjoy the fruits of his victory."

*****

Something was different about today.

It was difficult for Jack to tell anything was different from the darkened room he was in, but the ship's boilers had stopped. He was close to them so when they slowed down and then ultimately cut power, he knew it. Jack suspected they'd arrived in Naxos but he had no illusions that he'd be offloaded from the ship anytime soon.

He didn't know what to think about arriving in the enslaved country. On one hand, he was content with the arrival, knowing it would get him out of this cramped room. He knew he wouldn't lose the chains around his wrists, but the chance of getting some fresh air would be welcomed indeed. The other part of him didn't want to get any closer to Swabia. Jack was all too happy to see any delays in that timetable.

Unfortunately for him, it was a few hours later that Adalbert showed up in his makeshift prison while sporting a key.

"Wakey wakey, Jack," taunted the Swabian as he swung the key around his finger. "It's time to see what happens to those who resist the great Swabian Empire."

"Looking forward to it," muttered Jack.

"We're not going to have any accidents, are we?" asked Adalbert as he gestured behind him. There were two Swabian soldiers just behind the door, both of them keeping their rifles at ready while eyeing Jack with the same expression one would give a shit-covered and disheveled political prisoner.

If Jack was truly in any position to resist, he would have thought about it. The problem with that were the wounds he'd already sustained. His back ached something fierce because of the knife wound, and his body was still battered from his last encounter with Swabian soldiers. All of that was without the mention that with his hands and feet bound in chains, there was little resistance to be made.

Jack shook his head without speaking up.

Adalbert's lip curled up in delight. "Hopefully, you've accepted your fate by now. Things will go a lot easier for you if that's the case."

Adalbert whipped his head around to the soldiers and handed the key to one of them. "Get him on his feet. Let's go."

What proceeded next was nothing short of torturous. The soldiers removed the chains (but not the shackles) and each grabbed Jack by putting their hands under his shoulders. They forced him to his feet—a tricky proposition for someone so wounded who also hadn't walked in nearly a week. Jack almost buckled once his full weight was on his feet and he nearly fell forward. That was when Adalbert started to laugh.

"You've seen better days, I'm sure," the Swabian retorted while wearing a cruel grin.

Again, Jack didn't respond. There was no use to it. At this point, he just wanted to get out of the bowels of the ship to some different scenery.

At least in that regard, his wish was granted. The soldiers carried him up four separate hatches before they finally emerged above deck. Jack could tell by the layout that this was some type of warship but it was only once he was on the main deck that he could see it was some kind of cruiser by the looks of it.

"Like my ship?" asked Adalbert once he saw Jack eyeing the main guns. "TheTollwitz is a great ship. Those 8-inch guns destroyed a Picard destroyer the last time the two fleets met."

Jack managed a sneer. "8-inch you said? Still wouldn't stand a chance against theDestiny."

"Your ship, right? TheDestiny?" Adalbert grinned. "Too bad you'll never see her again. What's worse to an old sea dog like yourself? Never seeing your women again or your ship? I have to imagine those would be about equal."

Jack shot the man a murderous glare but they didn't stay on the main deck long. They were brought to the gangplank, and Jack was carried down until their feet came on dry land.

"Here we are," said Adalbert as he spread out his arms. "The land of Naxos!"

Jack's first encounter with Naxos left a lot to be desired. The country could be described adequately with one word only—bleak. The full range of colors for the rest of the natural world seemed to fail once Jack looked out on the country. Only one color seemed to prevail—a dark, soul-twisting grayness that removed all hope from the viewer.

The geography of the country was interesting from what Jack could see. The mountainous interior reminded him of Sorella. The issue with that was that Sorella's interior was full of lush tree cover and quaint family farms. Naxos was stripped bare of that same lushness. There were hardly any trees in sight, and those that were left were all but dead. The mountains themselves seemed bare without the tree color, lonely giants without their natural partners.

Jack knew that Naxos was famous for its mines. This was a country that at one time had pumped out a good portion of silver, gold, and copper for distribution throughout the West. He'd heard that was what made the Nax rich, and what beckoned other countries to stop for trade. He could still see the sights of the mines now, including one large cliffside mine that sat just below the only major city he could see.

He could see workers along the cliff, many of them clinging to the small scaffolding that covered the entire face of it. Jack suspected the cliff was over a thousand feet high, which meant that scaffolding covered a good portion of the face. There was a small ledge in the cliff where a decent sized building stood. The workers along the mine appeared like ants from this distance—small but numerous.

If the mine looked bleak, the city was even worse. It dominated the high ground at the top of the cliff. In ordinary light, it might even look picturesque by the way it sat on the top of the mountain.

In this light, it looked like a ghost town.

The buildings that Jack could see were drab. Even from his position, he could see that many of them were rundown, a shadow of their former glory. It was difficult to see any people in the city—both from the distance away but also because all the life he could see seemed to be alongside the cliff working the mines.

The city's other side butted up against another cliff that overlooked the ocean. That meant the only likely access was from the two sides, where the ground sloped downward to Jack's current position off the small port where they landed. It was a steep grade up to the city but nowhere near the steepness of the cliff. Jack spotted a small road that led up to the city, and that's the one that Adalbert set them upon once he'd flagged down a ride.

Adalbert couldn't help but gloat along the ride, especially once he'd received his welcome from the commander of the Swabian garrison.

"Smell that air, Jack?" he asked while taking a deep breath. "That's the smell of money. Precious metals are pouring into the Swabian coffers thanks to Naxos, making us all rich beyond our wildest dreams."

"And here I thought your money source was dented because of Andalucia," remarked Jack.

"Andalucia was a dent in our operations," admitted Adalbert. "And that revenue is sorely missed. Thankfully for all of us, Naxos seems to be making good on that lost revenue."

"I'm so happy for you," said Jack dryly.

Adalbert looked at the soldier next to him and nodded his head. Once again, a rifle butt jabbed into Jack's side, causing him to double over in pain.

"That mouth of yours keeps getting you into trouble," said Adalbert with a subtle tsk-tsk. "Someday you will learn to keep quiet."

Someday, I will kill you with my bare hands, thought Jack. That was something he didn't voice out loud though.

The ride to the city only took about five minutes. Along the way, Jack's suspicions about the lack of people proved to be correct. It was too much like a ghost town to escape notice. He saw the inevitable old woman or beggar, something never uncommon in a city's streets, but he never saw the amount of people he expected from seeing a city this size.

"Poor Millpond," said Adalbert with a heavy sneer. "Once a great trading city and now? A backwater mining town."

His words seemed to really strike to the core of the situation in the city. Jack tried to picture what it would have looked like in its heyday, with bustling streets, people, and commerce, but it was proving hard to do with such depredation. Notably, the majority of the time when he saw people, they were usually a squad of Swabian soldiers marching two abreast.

There was no better image of the end of times than those Swabian soldiers marching through the rubble of what used to be a great city.

Adalbert stopped their convoy only once it had reached the edge of the cliff. From this height, Jack could see much more of the mountainous interior than he had from the coast. It was unfortunate to say that his opinion didn't change. The country just appeared to be dead.

They stopped at a building that was completely out of place for the city. It was like that because it was maintained. There were no beggars out front and none of the windows in the building were cracked or shattered. It was tall, nearly six stories from what Jack could tell. It looked like one of those buildings he would see in Aberdeen of Belfort, almost like the headquarters of a major company.

"And here we are," said Adalbert once he stepped out from the convoy. He turned back to look at Jack. "This is where our paths separate for the next day. My men here will lead you to your cell. You be a good boy now and don't cause any trouble. After all, we wouldn't want any more bruises on that handsome mug of yours now would we?"

Adalbert didn't wait for a response. He disappeared into the main doors of the building without as much as a look behind him. Jack didn't have long to contemplate his words. He was pulled out of the convoy by the soldiers and led alongside the building. They didn't go in the main door, although Jack guessed he would have been a spectacle if they did. Instead, he was brought around the side and in through an obscure looking door.