Apex Sunburn

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Time: Around 1 pm

Polished brightwork gleamed beneath the glare of the early afternoon sun. Neatly bundled ropes creaked as they swayed with their heavy tackles in the gentle breeze. Furled and tightly lashed, the Sada Kurau’s distinctive crimson sails looked like giant caterpillars clinging to their yardarms. Her crew had performed their tasks handsomely and far beyond what Sjan-dehk had expected. With just little over an hour to prepare for a royal visit, he would’ve been satisfied had they simply swabbed the decks and patched up the more obvious damages.

He would have to give the men a well-deserved reward later.

“Kan sedarjah, tapat! Tapat sedarjah!” The terse parade commands felt strange on his tongue even as he shouted them. There just wasn’t that much use for them aboard his ship. His Sada Kurau spent almost all her time at sea and on patrol. Matters of decorum were well at the bottom of Sjan-dehk’s list of priorities and besides, the annual naval reviews and occasional parades rarely involved small ships like his. That suited him just fine; Sjan-dehk wanted sailors of substance, not just those who looked nice in overly-clean uniforms and knew only how to march in cadence.

Still, he couldn’t help but feel frustration welling in his chest as he watched the half-dozen men before him fumble with their rifles. Looking at how they clumsily brought their weapons off their shoulders and held it vertically before their faces, one would be hard-pressed to believe that these same men were capable of putting a bullet squarely between the eyes of a man from over two hundred paces away.

“These are the best we have, are they?” Sjan-dehk asked in a dry murmur, his voice only just audible over the clacking of arms and barely-restrained swearing of the chosen sharpshooters.

Standing beside him, Mursi nodded sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yes, captain.” Even in just two words, the apologetic tone of his voice was evident. “They’re the only ones who remember their drills. It’s been a long time since we’ve had to go on parade, captain.” He visibly cringed as one of his men failed to grasp their rifle properly and dropped it. “I’ll be sure to schedule more drill–”

“Don’t bother,” Sjan-dehk interrupted with a shake of his head. “I doubt we’ll be doing more of this. We can just have them stand at attention next time. No need for this pointless fucking about.”

“This ‘fucking about’ – as you put it, young marcher prince – is what will give our guests their very first impressions about our illustrious navy.” From Sjan-dehk’s other side came the sharp words of the last voice he wanted to hear. “A navy which – if I may remind you, young marcher prince – you swore to uphold the honour and dignity of.”

“Yes, yes, most knowledgeable one. I remember my oath.” Sjan-dehk didn’t even bother hiding the disdain and impatience in his voice when he responded to the royal tutor. The old man’s presence on the launch that had ferried Avek and Mursi back from the Sudah had been a surprise, and it had taken no time at all for Sjan-dehk to realise that it was, unfortunately, of the unpleasant sort. Against his very vocal and very colourful protests, the royal tutor had insisted that his Sada Kurau offer the king a proper welcome worthy of his stature. An obvious decision to some, perhaps, but all Sjan-dehk cared about was that they had only just finished a long and arduous journey. An unnecessary parade was the last thing his crew needed.

He placed his hands on his hips and chewed on his lip as he surveyed the men. Their uniforms were clean enough for a simple inspection, but certainly not for a parade. They’d need more steaming and pressing for that. It was the best they could manage, and so it would have to do. “Paansilan!” Sjan-dehk shouted, and after a brief pause, the men shuffled back to their previous stance – feet together, rifles slung behind their right shoulder, and a hand on the strap. Sjan-dehk waited for a moment, then shouted the command for an armed salute once more.

As expected, the sharpshooters were far from fluid and crisp in their motions. A little smoother and with less fumbling than before, Sjan-dehk had to admit, but far from what was acceptable. It would have been amusing to watch were the situation not so dire. The king and his entourage were surely already on their way. Time was running out. “See?” Sjan-dehk gestured to the men and turned to look at the royal tutor. “If they’re not getting it now, they’re not getting it by the time the king gets here. We can have them just stand at attention and look…Soldier-like. It was good enough for other kings, why not this one?”

“Self-proclaimed kings,” the royal tutor pointed out. “None of them recognised as such by anyone other than themselves, and from what I’ve been told, all of them you later killed in battle.” Sjan-dehk looked back at the sharpshooters and said nothing. Unperturbed, the tutor continued. “This is an actual king, seen by his people as their liege, and whose lands we are currently guests of. Surely even you can see that there is a marked difference, young marcher prince. We must show the proper decorum.”

Sjan-dehk snorted. “Only thing we’re showing at this rate is our bare arses in the wind.”

“Might make for a better salute,” Mursi quipped. “At least they’ll leave laughing instead of thinking that we’re the worst sailors to have ever graced their harbour.”

That brought a smirk to Sjan-dehk’s lips. “They know almost nothing about us. We could probably feed them some horseshit about how that’s our ways and they’d buy it wholesale.”

“Yes, and they’d think of Viserjanta as a land of uncivilised barbarians.” It was clear by the royal tutor’s tone that he didn’t see the humour in the captain’s suggestion, unlike Mursi, who could barely contain his laughter. He tilted his chin towards the assembled sharpshooters. “We still have time, young marcher prince. I’m sure a man of your calibre can instil them with the discipline to perfect their movements.”

“Oh, you flatter me, most knowledgeable one,” Sjan-dehk replied flatly. He wasn’t even completely sure that he could remember the proper procedure to greet the king. At least, he wasn’t sure that he wouldn’t forget it all in the heat of the moment.

Well, that could be a problem for later. As just one person, he could probably just make something up on the spot and the king would be none the wiser. These sharpshooters, however, needed to at least move in full unison lest they look like a bunch of uncoordinated fools. “Paansilan,” he said with a sigh. It was unlikely the men would be able to get the salute down perfectly by the time the king arrived, but drilling them was the only way to shut the royal tutor up. He could always give them a change of instruction at the very last minute. The old man wouldn’t be able to stop him.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Time: Around noon

As the sun slowly climbed to its zenith amidst the field of azure, so too did the heat with which it baked the Sada Kurau rise. In a vexing way, it puzzled Sjan-dehk. Here they were, so far away from and so far north of the Viserjantan islands, and yet it seemed as if the tropical sun had sneakily followed them. True, the air here was drier and it scorched rather than boiled, but the cooking of his back and the endless dripping of sweat from his brow felt all too familiar.

“That doesn’t look tight enough, captain.”

Sjan-dehk grumbled and untied the ropes he had been handling. Thin and tightly-wound, it – along with thousands like it – secured the Sada Kurau’s large, triangular sails to her willowy yards. Too loose, and a strong gust would be all it took to render her dead in the water. Still, he couldn’t help but stare daggers over his shoulder at Sahm-tehn. “You know, most people would find it strange that a master-of-sail can stand around doing fuck all while his captain works. Unethical, even.”

The weak rebuke simply washed over Sahm-tehn, and he looked unperturbed as he angled his pinned-up right sleeve to his captain. “As you say, captain. I’ll tie the sails securely with this then, shall I?” There was a bite to his words, and for a moment both men held their gazes, Sahm-tehn’s deadpan and cold against Sjan-dehk’s narrowed and piercing.

It was the latter who broke away first, sighing as he returned to his task. Much as it gnawed at him, he had to admit it; Sahm-tehn was justified in his displeasure. De-rigging, inspecting, then re-rigging an entire ship was a huge task that called for plenty of time and plenty of hands. They had neither. With Sohn-dahn and his boys, along with half of the gundeck sent across to aid Hai-shuun, part of the rigging crew had to be sent to cover their duties. All the same, the king’s men were due to arrive in practically no time at all, and they would surely be expecting a ship in prime condition.

“You’ve got a working pair of legs, haven’t you?” Much as Sjan-dehk was happy to let his crew openly air their discontent, they’d be fools if they believed he’d let them have the last word without a fight. He had to hold on to some of his captain’s honour and authority, after all. “Maybe I should’ve sent you to go shopping with master Avek instead.”

“Master Mursi is a skilled man, captain, but I wouldn’t trust him to inspect rigging.” Sahm-tehn spoke with a strange sort of mirthless levity. It sounded almost unnatural, as if he were fighting his nature to lighten their dire situation despite feeling all of the pressure on his shoulders.

Sjan-dehk replied with a similar chuckle. “No, I wouldn’t either.” He gave the rope one final tug, then stood up with a grunt and wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. Sahm-tehn leaned over and inspected the knot with scrutinising eyes. Sjan-dehk didn’t envy the man, to be honest. Every rope knotted and lashed, every tackle rigged, and every sail mended had to be personally checked and cleared by Sahm-tehn. It spoke volumes of his vast experience that he could do so with just his eyes, but even then it was tedious work. Under a sun that seemed to replace strength with lethargy in a man, no less. Sjan-dehk had long since taken off his shirt to cool himself, but Sahm-tehn insisted on remaining fully dressed. Dark hair wet and glistening with sweat, glued to his forehead, and slightly heaving shoulders, however, gave away his fatigue.

“It’ll do, captain,” the master-of-sail said at last with a shrug. “For now, at least. We may have to bring them all down again afterwards to make sure everything’s done properly.”

“We can only do what we can, master Sahm-tehn,” Sjan-dehk replied with a grimace as he squatted by the next length of rope to be tied. It wasn’t a question of ‘if’; he was certain that they would have to bring the yards down again once the king’s men were done with their business. He didn’t like it one bit – they risked damaging the yards every time they raised or lowered it – but it couldn’t be helped. Even a well-trained and experienced crew like his wouldn’t be able to do all that was needed to do with what little time they currently had.

He worked in silence for a while. Only the rustle of ropes, creaking of wood, and chatter of men broke the monotony. Sea birds gliding about aimlessly overhead cawed, their wings flapping languidly in the brisk seaward breeze. Eventually, however, Sahm-tehn cleared his throat and spoke. “Apologies, captain.” He paused for a moment and dipped his head in a bow. “I was rude earlier. It will not happen again.”

Sjan-dehk waved off the apology. “I deserve it, master Sahm-tehn. It’s mainly my own damn fault we’re in such a fucking rush.” He tightened the knot and beckoned for his master-of-sail over to inspect it. Once his work was given Sahm-tehn’s approval, he side-stepped over to the next segment of yard. “I think I told all of you this before, but I’d rather you be open with whatever’s pissing you off than keep it inside and, I don’t know, fucking explode some day. Just don’t go starting fights.” With one hand, he smoothed out the ruffles and wrinkles in the crimson sailcloth before starting to bind it to the yard. “So this had better happen again at some point, alright?”

“Yes, captain.”

Once again, Sjan-dehk worked in relative silence, only sharing the occasional word with Sahm-tehn when the latter checked his work. His fingers grew more dexterous and deft with each successive segment and before he knew it, he was almost at the end of the yard. Only a handful of ropes remained untied, but he took care to avoid the temptation to rush. He focused his mind entirely on the task at hand, muttering the steps beneath his breath and counting them out in his head until he achieved a steady rhythm.

And once again, it was Sahm-tehn who first spoke up. “So,” he began, and left the ending noticeable by its absence.

“So,” Sjan-dehk echoed.

“You met the king then, captain?”

“I did, yes.”

A pause. “What’s he like, captain?”

Sjan-dehk stopped what he was doing and looked up at Sahm-tehn with a quizzical look on his face. “Why do you ask, master Sahm-tehn?”

The master-of-sail didn’t meet his captain’s gaze. Instead, his eyes were turned towards the Sorian coast running eastwards, just beyond the starboard gunwale. “Just making conversation, captain,” he said and coughed into his fist.

Nodding slowly, Sjan-dehk returned to his work. “I see.” As he wove the rope into the sail, he considered his response. It was a tricky question, to say the least; even he wasn’t quite sure what he thought of King Edin. On the one hand, the king had shown him considerable courtesy. Yet on the other, his outbursts spoke of a rash and foul-tempered man. Truly a complex character, and one not so easily described after a single, rushed encounter. And so, Sjan-dehk decided to answer with what was typically best in situations like these. “Well,” he began with a vague shrug. “I showed up in his hall fully armed, interrupted his sons’ matchmaking session, but he was calm and polite enough. Then a girl tripped, dropped an onion, one of his sons ate the onion raw, and he fucking exploded. Called the guards to throw out the girl, and after that I wasn’t too keen on staying so I left as soon as I could. Tried to help the girl, failed, and got shown the door by the guards as well. That’s about it.”

Sahm-tehn’s face was blank, and he blinked once. There were so many questions swimming in his mind after his captain’s strange little tale that he couldn’t even choose one to ask first. “So this girl, she brought an onion to court the princes?” He asked hesitantly. Sjan-dehk nodded. “And this prince she spoke to, he picked it off the ground and ate it just like that?”

“Just like that,” the captain confirmed. “Peeled and ate the damn thing like its fruit.”

“Bloody madman,” Sahm-tehn replied with a shake of his head. “And just for that, this king sent his men to throw the girl out? Sounds like an overreaction to me, captain.”

“You don’t have to tell me that,” Sjan-dehk said with a frown. Just thinking about it irked him. King or not, there were just some things that weren’t right. If sending armed guards after an unarmed woman who had done nothing wrong didn’t fit that category, then he didn’t know what would.

“And he didn’t worry when you, an armed man, showed up in his court, but he rages at an onion?”

With a final tug, Sjan-dehk secured the sail to its yard. One done, and two more to go. Picking up the shirt that was more filthy rag than clothing beside him, he stood up and faced Sahm-tehn. “You could put it that way, yes,” he said as he wiped the sweat and grime from his body with it. To say that it was of little help would be an understatement. If anything, it seemed to do the exact opposite of what he wanted. “The king has strange priorities.”

“Doesn’t sound like that makes for a good king, captain, if I may say so.”

Sjan-dehk shrugged and draped the ruined shirt over his shoulder. “I agree, master Sahm-tehn, but it’s not our place to judge. As much as he reminds me of some of the bastards we fought, this king here is a real, actual king. Not some self-proclaimed turd with too much time on their hands. Besides, this isn’t anything for you to worry about. I’m the one who’ll likely have to be in his presence.” He folded his arms across his bare chest and tilted his chin towards his master-of-sail. “So, are you going to tell me the reason you’re asking all these questions?”

Just as before, Sahm-tehn averted his gaze. “Like I said, captain. Just making conversation.”

An impish smirk crept across Sjan-dehk’s face. “Come now, master Sahm-tehn. How long have we known each other?” He leaned his weight back and looked at Sahm-tehn with cheeky smugness. “Everyone here knows you’re never one for small talk. We’ve to pry every sentence from you most of the time, so forgive me, master Sahm-tehn, if I don’t believe that you’re simply making conversation.”

The two men stared at each other in silence for a moment, but eventually Sahm-tehn sighed. “Apologies, captain, I believed I was being subtle.”

Sjan-dehk’s smile widened. “We know each other far too well for it to work, master Sahm-tehn. You should have known that.” He stepped forward, the mischief in his face gradually fading until it was replaced by friendly concern as he patted Sahm-tehn’s shoulder. “What is it?”

It took a few moments before Sahm-tehn said anything. That alone was worrying; he was usually the one who had no problems telling things to Sjan-dehk straight with little tact. “The other officers and I have been discussing certain things, captain,” he began at last, and Sjan-dehk felt a pit of unease begin to open in his gut. Granted, it couldn’t be anything too serious; were that the case, they would have confronted him much sooner. Discontent amongst senior crewmembers, however, was never a good thing. Many a ship had fallen to mutiny and many a captain had met their end for that very reason.

Sahm-tehn continued. “As far as we know, we will be in harbour for a long time, and you will be assuming Lady Adiyan’s duties until she recovers, captain.” He paused, and Sjan-dehk nodded in agreement and gestured for him to continue. “You would have to spend more time on shore, correct?” Another nod. “So we were wondering if we could suggest a change in how we manage Sada Kurau, captain.”

The pit closed as quickly as it opened. It was just an administrative matter, and those were typically easy to resolve. Still, Sjan-dehk didn’t feel entirely comfortable. The crux of the matter eluded him. “You might have to elaborate, master Sahm-tehn. I don’t see a need for us to change anything. Azwan will take over my duties when I’m away, and the rest of you will simply carry on as per normal. What’s the problem?”

“It’s not a problem for now, captain, but what happens when you’re away for more than an hour or two, or even entire days?” Sahm-tehn kept his voice even and level, but the slight hesitation in his voice and how he averted his eyes every now and then gave away his trepidation. “You know as well as we do how these courtly affairs can drag on and on. With all respect, captain, you can’t foresee how long you’ll be away if you have to attend such things.”

That made sense. Sjan-dehk had yet to meet a punctual noble, or one who couldn’t find some silly excuse to make a party or meeting go on for far longer than they had any right to. “First of all,” Sjan-dehk began and patted Sahm-tehn on the shoulder again. “Relax. I’ve said it before, I’ve never gotten angry at any of you for speaking your mind before, and I don’t plan on starting now. Secondly, while you speak sense, the scenarios you speak of aren’t anything new to us. We’ve dealt with them before, we can do it again."

“True as that may be, captain, but we were in Viserjanta back then.” Sjan-dehk’s words must have worked on Sahm-tehn, as he now spoke in a far smoother and steadier manner. “We knew how things worked and more importantly, we knew the language. If we had an emergency, we could simply go to whatever hall you were in and ask for you. You should know how many times we’ve done that, captain. Here? We barely know how to communicate with these people.”

Sjan-dehk pinched the bridge of his nose and drew in a deep breath. Now he was finally beginning to see what Sahm-tehn was hinting at. In Viserjanta, he was always more-or-less available to his crew wherever he may be, which was exactly how he wanted it to be. True, excusing himself from a court full of nobles in favour of his crew and ship never earned him any favours, but it was at least openly acknowledged as an acceptable thing to do in Viserjanta. Perhaps that was also the case here in Caesonia, but they had no way of knowing. And even if was, his crew was unlikely to know enough of the language to negotiate their way through the castle gates.

“So,” he said and chewed on his lip. “If I’m correct, your concerns are that there might be times when I will be not only away, but completely cut off from Sada Kurau for long periods.”

“In so few words, yes, captain.”

For a man known to be taciturn and straightforward, the master-of-sail certainly chose an overly verbose and roundabout way to present his case. Sjan-dehk sighed. “You should’ve just said that. Alright, I can see your point. What do you suggest?”

“At least until the rest of us have learned enough of the language, and until we know enough of the local customs, we would like it if you could allow us more freedom to act at our own discretion.” Sahm-tehn said and pointed downwards. “You allow Avek to purchase provisions without your final approval, and so we would like to have that same freedom, especially for master Hai-shuun and master Mursi. We would also suggest that you give first officer Azwan the power to mete out punishments in your absence, captain.”

Sjan-dehk nodded slowly as he rubbed his chin. If he had to be honest, he wasn’t entirely comfortable with the notion of removing his hands entirely from the purchase of material and supplies. Provisions were one thing; Avek was the cook, and so it was only natural that he be allowed the freedom to choose his own ingredients. Wood, metal, and whatnot? Those were vital to keeping his Sada Kurau afloat; of course he’d want to have the final say as to what they were going to use to fix her. Neither did he relish the idea of handing over responsibility for his crew’s discipline. He was captain; if a man had to be punished, the least he could do was to do the sentencing himself.

Ultimately, however, Sahm-tehn had a point. Besides, if he couldn’t trust his officers, then why did he even give them their ranks and positions in the first place? Perhaps there was even some good in this; this could prove to be an excellent chance to let them prove their mettle.

“Alright, you have my agreement. While we’re docked and when I’m away, I’ll allow you all to act according to your own judgments. However, if it has to do with killing, setting sail, adding anything to Sada Kurau, or accepting visitors, it will still need my approval and supervision.” Sjan-dehk extended a hand and looked at Sahm-tehn with a raised brow. “Would that be acceptable?”

Sahm-tehn took his hand and gave it a firm shake. “We won’t let you down, captain.”

“You’d better not, otherwise we’re all bloody fucked,” Sjan-dehk said with a quiet laugh. “I’ll let the others know about this after we’re done dealing with the king’s people. Thank you, master Sahm-tehn.”

Sahm-tehn snapped to a salute. “Thank you, captain.”

“One question, though.” Sjan-dehk turned to look down the deck of his ship. Handing over so much control of his ship wasn’t something he particularly relished. It was like giving away his child, but a good captain always listened to their crew and judged their words fairly and without personal misgivings. “If, as you say, none of you are good at the language, how are you going to bloody buy anything without getting cheated to fuck and back?”

“The tutor has taught us well, captain,” Sahm-tehn replied. “We know enough about the currency here and how to do a bit of haggling. Enough to get by, but nothing more than that, captain.”

Sjan-dehk placed his hands on his hips and pursed his lips. “Wish the old bastard would’ve taught me that instead of courtly bullshit. I imagine it’d be a whole lot more useful.” He let out a long sigh. Well, maybe that was the case, but not anymore. He imagined his future was going to involve a lot more courts and royals and all the theatrics that came with it.

But for now, he could put all of that aside. “Well, master Sahm-tehn,” he said and tilted his chin towards the bow. “There’s still two more sails to sort out. Shall we?”

---

Just a short walk away from the docks where the Sada Kurau was moored – and along the very road Sjan-dehk had walked on his way to the castle, in fact – laid a tightly-packed cluster of rickety shacks and huts hugging the coast. Thin roofs fluttered dangerously in the wind, but by either luck or some stroke of engineering genius, none took flight. Old boats, their hulls mottled and tinged green by ocean growth, laid upon the sandy shores where they had been pulled up. Their larger, sail-rigged cousins sat comfortable in the shallows beside makeshift jetties of mismatched wood, whose pillars shivered against the surf.

A quaint fishing village within a city, Sjan-dehk would’ve called it.

Or at least, that was what he hoped it was. It would be quite the wasted trip if it proved to be otherwise.

Rigging his Sada Kurau had been arduous work, and had left his body aching. Sjan-dehk would have liked nothing more than to have a quick rest before the king’s people were due to arrive, but there was still something he needed to do. Something he knew he would forget if he were to put it off any longer. And so, after he had wiped himself clean of sweat and grime, he had thrown on clean tunics from his dwindling supply and made tracks for this little shanty town.

As it had been in the slums earlier, the people here looked at him with curious gazes as he passed. As it hadn’t been in the slums, few – if any – had worry or fear in their eyes. Sjan-dehk had learned his lessons well, and had come unarmed and unarmoured. Largely so, and by his standards, at least. Twin scabbards swished against leather tassets hanging by his legs as he walked. His pistols, snug and secure in their holsters, barely made a sound. They were hardly noticeable, so dulled and worn by age were they that even the metalwork of their locks failed to catch the bright, afternoon sun.

The familiar scent of fresh fish and spilled entrails was heavy in the air, and it only grew more pungent the further he ventured along the labyrinthine streets. Seawater and blood turned dirt paths into mires that squelched against his boots with each step. None of it bothered Sjan-dehk much; it wasn’t anything he wasn’t already used to. Most of Jafi had the same scent, and when it came to the harbour where he had spent much of his time ashore, it was almost identical in every way.

And besides, the smell told him that he had the right idea, if not on the right track.

Eventually, the winding path he followed deposited him on the beach. Dry sand replaced moist dirt, and the briny whiff of the sea overpowered all other scents. Gulls circled above and stood on boats, beady eyes leering at men and women hauling frayed nets laden with fish. The air was buzzing with murmurs of trade and commerce. This had to be the place. Sjan-dehk looked around for anyone who might be in charge. Not too far away stood a young woman surrounded by a small, clamouring crowd. That was as good a place as any to start.

“...just as fecked as ta’ rest o’ youse. I wan’ tae help, but I can no give what I ‘aven’t, ‘tis so ‘tis so.” As he approached, he caught the tail end of her impassioned speech. Fretful and dispirited faces looked away from her. Gradually, the crowd dispersed and she caught sight of Sjan-dehk. The drab shirt and trousers she wore had more discoloured patches than material, and she had her straw-like hair pulled into a messy tail and tucked beneath a cap. “‘Aven’t seen you before–” she began, but the friendliness in her voice and on her face quickly disappeared once she saw the weapons by Sjan-dehk’s sides. “We want no trouble here, ‘tis so. Who you be, and what ‘tis brings you ‘ere?”

Sjan-dehk blinked. Regular Caesonian was already hard enough for him to parse, but this woman’s accent made it practically undecipherable. For a few awkward moments, he stared blankly at her, and the look on her face slowly turned to one of annoyance. Before she could say anything, Sjan-dehk decided to simply introduce himself normally. “Wasun Sjan-dehk.” He placed a hand on his chest and bowed. “Captain of Sada Kurau. You are ah…The leader here?”

The woman arched her brows. “A cap’n, so you are?” She looked almost impressed, but said nothing else on the matter. Instead, she turned her head, cupped her hands around her mouth, and shouted, “Pa!” A man shouted back from somewhere further up the beach. “I ‘ave someone ‘ere lookin’ fer you!” She then looked back at Sjan-dehk and jerked her head towards the sea. “So, that large boat out o’er yonder, ‘tis yours, is it?”

He didn’t need to look to know what she was referring to. “No. That is Sudah.” Specialised shipyards had to be built for her construction, and so erring on the side of caution, her captain had decided to anchor her off-shore rather than bringing her into dock.

Sjan-dehk shifted his stance slightly and pointed to his ship, her stern just visible around the bend at the end of the beach and her mast tops peeking over the lower buildings. “That is mine. Sada Kurau.”

The woman folded her arms and let out a low whistle. “Think I may ‘ave seen it comin’ in. She be lookin’ a fine ship, ‘tis so ‘tis so. Very fancy like. All yours, is she?”

Once again, Sjan-dehk looked at her in confusion. It seemed like a silly question to him, or a tricky one; he wasn’t quite sure which it was. Who else did a ship belong to if not her captain? “Yes, she is,” he replied slowly and carefully. Could this be a local nautical convention which he wasn’t aware of? He would have to find out. “I am her captain, yes? Who else can she ah…Belong to?”

The woman shrugged. “Some folks ‘round ‘ere sail fer ‘ighborn folk. Not all o’ us ‘ave ta’ coin tae ‘ave our own boats, cap’n, so they work fer folks wi’ ta’ coin but no ta’ gall fer sailin’.”

Sjan-dehk furrowed his brow. Owning a ship but letting someone else sail her was a strange concept to him. Would those same people similarly marry their partners but have another be their spouse? Whether bought, given, or captured, a captain had to own their ship in her entirety. Otherwise, what reason would they have for caring about her as much as they should?

Whatever words he had in mind would have to wait, as a man ran up to them. Very much on the thinner side, the clothes hanging off his frame looked to be almost as old as him. What little hair he had clung to his chin and scalp in foggy grey wisps. “Ah, we ‘ave a visitor, ‘ave we?” He managed to gasp out between heaving pants. Sjan-dehk almost reached out to support him when he doubled over and rested his hands on his knees to catch his breath.

His daughter, however, didn’t look concerned in the least. “‘Tis so. Pa, this is..A cap’n. Cap’n, me pa.”

The old man drew in a few deep breaths and stood up. His movements were stiff and deliberate, as if his joints had only just awoken from a long rest. “Welcome, welcome! What can we ‘umble fisherfolk do fer you, cap’n?”

Sjan-dehk offered a quick bow to the man before speaking. “My ship, we need ah…Provisions.”

“Ah, if ‘tis buyin’ you be after, cap’n,’tis better you find yer way tae ta’ market.” The man said and wringed his hands together. “‘At’s where most o’ today’s catch’s goin’. We ‘aven’t been ‘avin’ much luck lately, I’m afraid we ‘ave no tae sell tae you, cap’n. Not ‘ere.”

“No, not here to buy,” Sjan-dehk replied with a shake of his head. “Just want to ask. Next time you set sail to go fish, can we follow? We fish too.”

The man said nothing and wringed his hands even harder, were that possible. Nervousness was written all across his face. He looked at the ground, then at his daughter who glowered at Sjan-dehk. The two were certainly related by blood; this man was confusing Sjan-dehk with his actions as much as his daughter had with her words. “W-well, tis’ like so, w-we can’t–” the man’s hesitant and stuttering words were swiftly cut off by his daughter.

“What pa is tryin’ tae say is no,” she said and crossed her arms. “‘Tis trouble enough tae bring in ta’ catch we need fer sellin’ and feedin’ our own. Another boat’s just given’ us more shite tae deal wi’. An’ yer boat’s large like, ‘ow much you be plannin’ on fishin’?”

“Aislin!” Her father’s protests fell on deaf ears.

Sjan-dehk held up his hands in front of him in an attempt to calm her. “Only what we need. No more.”

“Aye, ‘tis may be so, but ‘ow much is that?” Her piercing gaze was withering, and had Sjan-dehk been of a weaker constitution, he would have surely squirmed beneath it. “Boat that large, surely you be plannin’ on trawlin’, and we folk ‘ere already know ‘ow that ends fer us. You’ll be goin’ ‘ome fat an’ ‘appy while we ‘ave tae starve and ‘ope nobody feckin’ kicks it.”

“We have no nets on Sada Kurau. Only lines. Not ah…Trawling.”

“Well–” Aislin began, but this time it was her father’s turn to interrupt. He stepped in front of her, a clearly forced smile on his face and sweat beading on his forehead. HIs cheeks were largely devoid of colour and he looked as if he was one good shock away from passing out entirely.

“A-apologies fer me daughter, cap’n.” He bowed deeply, and Sjan-dehk found himself having to gently lift him by the shoulders to convince him to straighten himself. “S-she’s rough ‘round the edges but she do be meanin’ well, she does. We ‘ave been ‘avin’ p-problems wi’ our catches lately. Too many boats be comin’ intae our waters, you see. Most o’ what we catch, we ‘ave tae sell to keep things runnin’ what wi’ rent and repairs and such, ‘tis so ‘tis so.”

Sjan-dehk nodded slowly. “There are ah…No other places? For you to fish?”

“We…We can go farther out, but ‘tis dangerous, cap’n.”

“Pirates?”

The man scratched his chin and thought about it for a moment, then shook his head. “Can no call ‘em that, tae be honest. They don’t really attack us, they just–”

“Those feckers fleece us fer our coin an’ catch, ‘at’s what they do.” Aislin cut in with barely hidden anger in her words and on her face. “Our boats are no armed, an’ even if we were, we can no do much against a robbin’ boat wi’ their cannons and such. We be more like ‘an not tae lose more ‘an we can gain by sailin’ out that far.”

That was something Sjan-dehk was familiar with. Even in Viserjantan waters, there was no shortage of bandits fitting small cannons onto small skiffs and cutters to extort money from the largely unarmed and unescorted fishing fleets. Pirates in the loosest sense of the word as far as he was concerned, and easily dealt with. “We can protect you,” he said, and that immediately got the attention of Aislin and her father. “If you want to go out to fish. Sada Kurau can protect your boats.”

Aislin narrowed her eyes. “An’ what do you get out o’ this?”

“Fish to eat.” Hadn’t she been listening this whole time? That was all Sjan-dehk wanted.

“You're no gonna be wantin’ payment?”

“We have enough.” Sjan-dehk glanced over at their run-down boats, then at their homes, then back at her with a sympathetic look in his eyes. “And you need the ah…Money more than we do, yes?”

“Save your pity!” Aislin snapped, then drew in a deep breath. “I'm no convinced, ‘tis so. Ne’er ‘ave I met a cap’n who’d ‘elp us folk wi’ out askin’ fer coin or somethin’ shiny like in return. What’s tae stop you from stabbin’ us in ta’ back if you change yer mind out there? You could sink us all wi’ out even battin’ a feckin’ eye if you change yer mind fer whatever reason while we be out there.”

Sjan-dehk was beginning to feel rather annoyed. Just who did she think he was? Did he really seem like the sort who would do something like that? There was caution, then there was paranoia. To him, Aislin jumped between the two like a hare. “We just left one war. We do not want to ah…Start another.”

“But you ‘ave no issue fightin’ pirates an’ such?”

“That is different. That is duty.”

Aislin’s father finally spoke up after his prolonged absence. “If we can go out ‘at far…” He began in a quiet murmur, but it was enough to silence Aislin. “One good catch an’ we’d be good fer eatin’ and payin’ what needs payin’ fer a week at least.” He fell silent for a few moments more, then swallowed hard and looked at Sjan-dehk with as determined a look as he could muster. “We’re puttin’ a lot o’ trust in you, cap’n, but if ‘tis as you say and you’re good on yer word, then ‘tis a risk worth takin’.”

Sjan-dehk placed a hand on his chest, and bowed. “On my honour. We will do as ah...As said.”

A snort from Aislin showed how much faith she had in him. “Honour and talk’s cheap, cap’n.” She sighed and wiped both hands on her trousers. “I still think that ‘tis a bad idea, ‘tis so ‘tis so, but if pa’s willin’ to put ‘is faith in you, well, ‘e’s me pa and ‘e’s ne’er been wrong yet, so ‘e ‘aven’t. I’m no arguin’.”

Her father beamed at her, and looked markedly more relaxed when he turned back to Sjan-dehk. “‘Tis all agreed, then! ‘Tis too late tae go out ‘at far, but we can set off bright an’ early tomorrow if that suits you?”

“Yes, that will be fine.”

“I’ll be knockin’ on yer door ‘fore the sun’s up,” Aislin piped up. “I’m goin’ tae be feckin’ pissed if yer feckin’ oversleep, aye?”

Sjan-dehk did his best to suppress his grin as he looked at her. He didn’t want to make a competition out of something so silly, but if she thought she could catch him asleep, then he’d be more than happy to show her the error of her ways. “We will be ready,” he replied simply with a curt nod. That was another objective complete, and one less thing he had to worry about. Tomorrow was shaping out to be quite the interesting day, to say the least.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Mentions: @Tae Saiya

A sheepish smile found its way onto Sjan-dehk’s face. “You are…Most kind, your ladyship,” he said with a short and muted laugh. There was a fluster in his voice, and he waved his hands in front of him as if he were warding off the compliment. Such words were opponents he never quite learnt how to deal with. All the more so when it came to ones he felt were undeserved. Once more, he bowed his head to Saiya in gratitude. He had a little grin on his face when he straightened himself. “But maybe ah…Unfair? To the city. Big place, yes? Many people. I…Hope there are more good people here.”

It was a wish for the both of them. Provisioning and maintaining a ship was expensive business, and all it would take would be an unscrupulous carpenter, smith, or merchant to make it even more costly. Possibly deadly, even. True, such people were rife even throughout the Viserjantan islands, but at least Sjan-dehk had learnt – through many, many painful lessons – how to play their game. Here? The Caesonian way of doing things was utterly alien to him. He could be fleeced and he’d never know it.

Well, it was just another problem for him to solve. At least he had Avek; that man could be tasked with procuring spiced wine and pickled vegetables, and somehow return with several extra tuns of rice wine and salted meat. Sjan-dehk hoped his skills would translate well to this entirely new city.

And that brought his mind back to his most pertinent task at hand. His crew still needed orders. Wandering the city with Saiya was out of the question, but he could at least accompany for some small part of the way. “Then ah…Please let me walk with you to the gates.” People were still pouring through the archway in an endless torrent. Surely they couldn’t all be here for the king and his sons? Sjan-dehk shook his head slightly. Being royalty wasn’t easy. It was times like these that made him thankful for his low rank.

As usual, Sjan-dehk casually rested a hand on the pommel of his sword. “You can ah…Hold…” He trailed off and tilted his head towards his free arm. “If you want.” From what he was seeing, that was how men and women walked together in this city. Better for him to get used to it sooner rather than later.

At the mention of his Sada Kurau, Sjan-dehk beamed. Beautiful was putting it lightly; she was absolutely gorgeous. The comeliest of ships he had ever laid eyes upon, and he had seen many ships. “Yes, Sada Kurau is very beautiful,” he began, but stopped himself before he could launch into a soliloquy extolling his darling ship’s virtues. Saiya had a question and request he needed to answer. “We should be here for ah…A few weeks. You are welcome to visit. Would be my…Pleasure to show you Sada Kurau.”

There. Now he could extoll.

And that was what he did. As they walked, he spoke at length about his ship. About how her svelte lines met the water with such grace; how her alluring, narrow figure sat upon the waves, and how her beautiful curves could break and ride even the roughest swells the sea could throw at her; how she sang her quiet, whispering song to her crew every time her billowing sails caught the wind at just the right speed and angle. But she wasn’t just a pretty ship. No, Sada Kurau was also a fearsome warrioress. Whenever she chased her prey, only an expert hand and deft touch on her ropes could control her. Only the best sailor could keep her dancing like a butterfly about her enemies; always just out of reach, but constantly spitting fire and steel. Only the most patient would learn of her wonderful qualities, of her quirks, and realise that they only made her all the more beautiful.

Truly, Sjan-dehk couldn’t ask for a better partner. The Gods and his Ancestors could offer him the finest divine vessel, built from the peach wood and rigged with braided silk, but he would still choose his one and only Sada Kurau.

It was only when they passed beneath the portcullis did he realise that he had been practically speaking about his ship non-stop since they started walking. That realisation came with a deep blush that climbed up his neck, and he looked away. “Apologies, I did not mean to ah…Talk so much.” It had been such a long time since he could talk about his ship to anyone – everyone he knew either crewed the Sada Kurau themselves, or had their ears talked off about the ship ages ago – but it wasn’t much of an excuse. He brought a fist to his mouth and coughed into it. “Rude of me.”

He stepped away from Saiya and, placing his hand on his chest, offered her a deep bow. “Have a good day, your ladyship,” he said and stood back up, a friendly – albeit still somewhat awkward – smile on his face. “It was my…Pleasure to meet with you. Hope to meet again. You are welcome to ah…Come on to Sada Kurau when you want.”

With a tip of hat towards her, he turned on his heel, and was off.

–

“Master Hai-shuun!”

The heavy thuds of Sjan-dehk’s boots against the wooden pier were matched only by the loudness of his voice. His carpenter peeked his head over the gunwale of the Celestine, face covered with sawdust and dark hair matted and glistening with sweat. “Welcome back, captain!” He shouted over the cacophony of hammering and sawing behind him, and the shouts and yells coming from the Sada Kurau just to the left of Sjan-dehk. “Do we know what to do with the Celestine?”

“Make her look pretty for now, master Hai-shuun!” Sjan-dehk stopped, craning his head back to look up at the man. “This city’s run by a damn king, and he’s sending people down to have a look, so stop all big repairs and just patch up her hull. I’ve already told him what a shitheap she is, so hopefully whoever he sends won’t be expecting much.” He paused, placing both hands on his hips and looking between his feet, tongue clicking as he tried to remember what else he had to tell Hai-shuun. “Oh, right, and have the prisoners ready to disembark!”

Hai-shuun let out a low whistle. “A king? I thought a duke ran this place. How long do we have?”

Sjan-dehk looked up, shading his eyes with a hand and squinting at the sun. He chewed on his lower lip for a moment, then looked back at Hai-shuun. “Not long. Less than two hours at most, and that’s if they show up exactly on time.”

The carpenter didn’t immediately reply. Instead, he looked over his shoulder, mouth moving in an inaudible mutter and fingers tapping an irregular beat against the Celestine. When he looked back, his concern was plainly visible on his face. “That’s not a lot of time, captain, and with thirteen pairs of hands gone, I’m not sure I can make her–” he patted his hand against the ship “–looking even reasonably presentable. I might be able to get it done if you send me more crew from Sada Kurau.”

“I can’t send much, they’ll be coming aboard Sada Kurau as well.” Sjan-dehk spat out a curse beneath his breath after his response. He should have foreseen this; his crew was good, but not good enough to have two ships ready for inspection in such a short amount of time. True, he was in a rush to settle the issue of the Celestine, but he still should have argued for at least one or two hours more to prepare.

But he didn’t, and so he had to work with what he had. He closed his eyes and tapped a rapid beat with his foot against the pier. “Okay,” he let out a long breath and said. “I can send Azwan and Sohn-Dahn over with half of the gun crew and all of the boys. It’s mostly rigging work we’ve to do on Sada Kurau, so I think Sahm-tehn and I should be able to handle it with his men pulling most of the weight.”

“What about Avek? That lout’s doing nothing, last I saw.”

Sjan-dehk shook his head. “Not for long, he’s not. I’m sending him over to Sudah to bring some stuff back here to show the king’s people.”

Hai-shuun guffawed. “Him? Are you sure, captain?”

That got a mirthless chuckle from Sjan-dehk. In truth, he wasn’t sure either. Avek might be a good haggler and better talker, but the sort of people aboard the Sudah weren’t the most receptive or accepting of his ways, to put it simply. “I’ll have Mursi go with him as well.” With their combined expertise, they should be able to bring back a varied selection of goods for Edin’s men to have a look at. The master-at-arms would also be able to help communicate with the crew of the Sudah should Avek prove to be too uncouth for their overly-refined tastes. “If you need, I can have the sharpshooters over to help.”

“Don’t bother, they’re all helpless with this sort of work,” Hai-shuun called back. He still looked unsure but nodded anyway. “I can’t promise miracles, captain, but I’ll do my best to make this tub look decent.”

Sjan-dehk gave him a thumbs up and a smile. “The best is all I can ask for, master Hai-shuun.”

The carpenter snapped to a smart salute, then returned to his duties. From the pier, Sjan-dehk could hear him barking off a litany of orders in rapid succession. Even as he fast-marched himself to his ship, his hands were already loosening the straps and strings of his belts and armour. By the time he ascended the gangplank, he could just shrug off his belts and pull his armour up and over his head. “Thank you,” he said with a nod to the crewmen who picked up his effects. “Bring them to my quarters, please. Except the carbine, that one goes to master Mursi's workshop.”

He rolled up his sleeves and began making his way to the quarterdeck. The yards were still laying on the deck, their sails untied and still in the process of being checked for frays and tears. Loose ropes laid about like coiled snakes. Unhitched tackles and hooks hung from guardrails, and tools laid strewn everywhere as was the men who used them. A long sigh left Sjan-dehk’s lips. It was going to take a lot of work to get his Sada Kurau ready for the king’s men.

Well, then he had better pull his weight as well. He secured his sleeves just above his elbow and raced up the steps onto the quarterdeck. “All officers to the quarterdeck on the double!”

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Mentions: @Tae Saiya

Perhaps Sjan-dehk needn’t have spoken so much. Eloquent and with a graceful sort of force, Saiya was clearly more than capable of holding her own against the women. Granted, Sjan-dehk understood roughly half of what she was saying, but the reaction from the crowd before the two of them told him all that he needed to know. He stood back with a hand on his sword and lips upturned in a roguish grin. Bark-brown eyes filled with mischief peered from beneath his hat at the crowd. Watching the proud and haughty be humbled was almost as enjoyable as doing the deed himself.

And Saiya was clearly adept at the craft. Even the lone woman who had gathered enough courage to attempt a rebuttal was quickly cowed into silence. He had no idea what a ‘Sultan’ or ‘Grand Vizier’ was, or what had happened the night before, but whatever it was, it worked. Hiding the wide, smug smirk that came over his face with a hand, Sjan-dehk watched the woman’s confidence shatter and the colour quickly drain from her face. So taken was he by the scene that he didn’t even notice Saiya’s arm looped around his until she started leading them both to the exit.

Sjan-dehk followed. As they passed beneath the lintel, he looked back over his shoulder at the gathered women with a cheeky grin. “Be more polite to the princes, yes?” He pulled his hat ever-so-slightly lower over his eyes and turned back around before he could see their reactions.

No one could say Wasun Sjan-dehk of Jafi was entirely without manners.

The sound of melodic laughter from the lady beside him pulled some chuckles from his throat. He looked back at Saiya as she thanked him, and whatever worries and concerns he had about subtly threatening an entire group of well-to-do women vanished the moment he saw the radiant smile upon her pretty face. If it made someone that happy, whatever he did couldn’t have been too bad. At least, he would be able to live with the consequences. Hopefully the rest of the trade delegation aboard the Sudah would agree.

If it even came to it. There was no point worrying over a possibility.

For now, he was quickly becoming very aware of Saiya. The heat washing over his cheeks was becoming a little too hard to ignore. The sea may have stolen his heart, but it hadn’t taken much else. It surely hadn’t taken his body’s natural reactions. Besides, it had been such a long time since he had been this close to a woman who wasn’t either of his sisters. An understandable, albeit embarrassing, response.

Sjan-dehk gently pulled his arm free and turned to face her fully, then bowed. “No need to thank me. It was nothing. Was…” He racked his mind for a good way to phrase his words. To say that he had helped Saiya out of the goodness of his heart would be a half-truth at best, but to say that he had done it solely out of obligation would also be wrong. There was a moral aspect to it all, and it was an aspect that Sjan-dehk felt sorely ill-equipped to properly describe. “Was the Way,” was the best he could manage. “Is what should be done. So no need to ah…Repay. You owe nothing.”

The flush was just about gone from his face when he stood up, replaced by a grin tugging at his lips. “You helped too, no? Strong words. Your father–” He held up a fist in front of him and clenched it. “– must be very strong too. The women, their faces were white. Like rice not cooked.” A quiet, close-lipped chuckle rumbled in his throat at that memory. “Very ah…Funny to see.”

He looked towards the castle gates, momentarily distracted by the cacophony of a myriad pairs of shoes against cobblestone. Throngs of people were still coming through in clumps and trickles, no doubt hopeful suitors seeking a chance for a prince’s heart. Sjan-dehk furrowed his brow. Much as he wanted to return to his Sada Kurau in haste, leaving Saiya here just felt wrong. As if he had just saved a person from a shark only to leave them to fend for themselves in the same infested waters. A job half-done, and as his father liked to say, that may as well be a job not done.

That simply would not do. Sjan-dehk started this, so he’d be damned if he didn’t finish it properly. Turning back to Saiya, he bowed his head briefly. “I must return to Sada Kurau,” he said, tone almost apologetic. It wouldn’t do to be dishonest, either. "But I can ah...Walk with you to where you will go. If you want. Would be my pleasure.”

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Mentions: @Tae Saiya

Alidasht? Sjan-dehk was certain he had heard that name before. Mostly in passing – and quickly glossed over – during several of the interminable meetings aboard the Sudah. Finding Sorian had been their only concern back then, and so what little details Sjan-dehk knew about Alidasht was sparse. Far too sparse for a place he was to visit at some point during this expedition. Perhaps it was fortunate, then, that he should – quite literally – bump into a lady hailing from there. Sjan-dehk would be a fool to let this chance to learn a little more about the nations of this part of the world give him the slip.

What was he thinking? Here he was, having just caused her an inconvenience – a minor one, granted, but an inconvenience nonetheless – and his first thoughts were of personal gain. Vulgar and unbecoming of a proper officer, as his previous captain would’ve said.

“Wasun Sjan-dehk of Viserjanta.” A slight flush tinged his cheeks as he introduced himself with a hand on his chest and a slight bow at the waist. “Captain of Sada Kurau. Fourth lesser marquis of Jafi.” He stood up straight. “It is my pleas-” The redness of his face deepened when his tongue came a little too close to his teeth for the syllable. He bowed once more, this time out of embarrassment more than anything else, and tried again. “My ah…Pleasure to meet you, your ladyship.”

The tittering and vague whispers behind him didn’t escape his notice. Mere ladies’ gossip, he had initially thought, and thus none of his concern. Then he noticed the faded, but still angry scars on her arms, the angriest of which her slender fingers glided along. Though he tried his best to avert his eyes, Sjan-dehk couldn’t help but glance at them. Whatever Saiya had survived, it had to have been savage, extensive and varied as the scars were. If Sjan-dehk knew nothing else about her, that alone was worthy of some modicum of his respect.

There was also her smile. It was lovely, but it pulled at corners of her lips and not her eyes. For a moment, Sjan-dehk was reminded of a phrase his mother often used: ‘the skin laughs but the flesh does not’. Only then did he start trying to pick out words from the murmurs.

“...Hideous…”

“...Horror…”

“...Grotesque…”

He quickly put it all together, and felt indignation swell in his chest. Just who did these people think they were, to slander another in their presence? As if they were naught but air? Well, if they wanted to speak of horrors and monsters so badly, then Sjan-dehk would happily oblige. It was perfect timing, too. He had almost chewed his tongue to pulp with the king earlier. Here, he had no such scruples to worry about.

“Please excuse me.” He gave Saiya a friendly smile, and kept that smile on his face as best he could as he turned around to face the women. The ones directly before him stopped their gossiping. Clearly, they hadn’t considered that someone might find their unsavoury talk displeasing. “If you ah…Dislike scars so much, then do not look. Simple, no?” With a hand, he mimed a plucking motion, as if he were pulling an invisible grape from its vine. “Or remove your eyes. No eyes, no need to see, yes? But one is easier. Not much pain.”

Some of the women covered their mouths in shock. Anxious whispers rippled through the crowd and the atmosphere tensed. Sjan-dehk wasn’t feeling much of it, however. In fact, it took much of his restraint to not burst out laughing. Did they really think he would gouge out their eyes? That was only reserved for criminals somewhere close to the highest order. A few pairs of eyes gazed at his waist, and Sjan-dehk realised that he had unwittingly rested his hand on its usual resting spot, the pommel of his sword.

He snapped it away and chuckled at his mistake. “Ah, not a threat. Worry not. Just advice, yes?” More than a few mouths opened to speak, but before any words could make it past their lips, Sjan-dehk held up a finger to shush them. “No need to speak. I am not good with your language. Will not understand. Should be careful with words. Tongues. Like weapons, yes? Use it ah…Without care, and lose it.” He regarded every pair of eyes that looked at him with a smile. It did more to unsettle the crowd than it did to reassure them, and Sjan-dehk himself didn’t quite know which was his aim. “That is very bad. You, me, do not want that, yes? So better to be quiet now.”

Keeping his eyes on the women, he shifted his body and stepped to the side. “You want to talk? Then you apologise to her.” He gestured to Saiya, and only then did the smile disappear from his face, and he didn’t look at the women as much as he glared at them. “Or else, shut your fucking mouths. And we leave.”

On a very deep level, Sjan-dehk felt a tinge of guilt. Did the women deserve some comeuppance for their unrepentantly mean words? Certainly. Was this an overreaction on his part? More like than not. It wasn’t going to do him any favours, of that he was sure of. He just hoped this wouldn’t come back to haunt the trade mission as a whole. These women were just in the wrong place and at the wrong time. Though he had to be honest, putting a bunch of rude nobles in their place felt as good as it always was.

Well, it was too late to worry about that. Words spoken can never be retrieved, and Sjan-dehk would have to live with whatever consequences that came with them. One thing was certain, however; whether he liked it or not, this Viserjantan captain had likely made his way into many a gossip circle.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Mentions: @princess Edin @SausagePat Ruby @Tae Saiya

The king certainly had some interesting sons, Sjan-dehk had to say.

As with most others in the ballroom, his attention had been stolen by the echoing thud of someone hitting the floor. Rather painfully, he would add. The corner of his eye twitched in a fleeting wince even before he shifted his gaze, just in time to see the same white-haired, strange-eyed girl he had seen in the entrance hall clamber to her feet and scamper off. An onion rolled from her pack, which the prince she had been speaking with picked up. Normally, Sjan-dehk wouldn’t have paid any more attention to the scene, but the prince did something unexpected. Bizarre, even.

He peeled the vegetable and proceeded to eat it as if it were a fruit. Sjan-dehk could only imagine what its sting was doing to the man’s eyes and mouth. It couldn’t be pleasant at all. To the prince’s credit, his face didn’t seem to betray any hint of discomfort. If anything, he seemed to be enjoying it.

A life at sea had brought Sjan-dehk to many sights both strange and wild. Even so, he had to admit, this was likely the first time he had ever seen someone eat an onion in such a way. Between revulsion and an odd sense of admiration, he wasn’t quite sure what to feel. He settled for an uncomfortable mix of both. It was a disgusting act, to be sure, but it was also one that was honestly quite impressive. The prince had surely proven his…

Well, whatever it was he wanted to prove, Sjan-dehk felt he definitely succeeded.

“Guards!”

And whatever it was, the king clearly disagreed.

“Get that onion–” The way the king spat that one word out, Sjan-dehk would’ve thought it to be some form of poison. “–woman away from my sons! Now! And Callum, conduct yourself with some respect for the ladies if not for yourself!”

Sjan-dehk furrowed his brow as he returned his gaze to the floor. Calling the guards on a clumsy girl who seemed to be already on her way out seemed like quite the overreaction. Not at all becoming of a just and wise king. There was plenty he wanted to say; he could feel the words bubbling in his throat, but he bit his tongue. No, this was not the right time. He had to keep playing nice for now. From how things sounded, he had managed to pique the king’s curiosity in the Sudah’s wares. Mucking it up now, just as negotiations were ending, would be both unwise and wasteful.

Still, his honour wouldn’t suffer him doing nothing. He could already hear the guards moving behind him.

“If we’re quite finished,” the king continued after collecting himself and clearing his throat. For the briefest of moments, Sjan-dehk wondered if he would rescind his orders; if he would realise the ridiculousness of his orders after having calmed down. It didn’t happen, but that didn’t surprise Sjan-dehk in the least. He had met far too many kings – self-proclaimed or otherwise – who enjoyed bandying their power about to last at least a lifetime. Maybe even two. “We can reconvene tomorrow to discuss my purchases. This will give you some time to settle into Sorian. There are plenty of inns to check into if you find sleeping on your ship distasteful. Remember to meet my people at one o’clock.”

The king was still being far more polite with his words and offers than he needed to be, but now they felt a lot less genuine. It was strangely amusing how those few words, spoken in that one brief moment, could now colour all of the man’s current and future actions. As another great sage once wrote in yet another old book Sjan-dehk had read, the true measure of a person was not in how they acted when calm, but when they were enraged and agitated. And from what Sjan-dehk saw and heard, this king might not be the man he had assumed him to be at the beginning.

Not that he was in any position to say that. If the king was putting up an act, then Sjan-dehk was being an absolute thespian. None of this came naturally to him. Perhaps that was why he didn’t ask about when he was to return to the castle the next day, or even attempt to squirm his way out of it entirely. “This one will not forget, your grace,” was all he said, followed by a simple. “This one will take his leave.”

Well, that was that. Whether he liked it or not; whether he changed his mind or not, Sjan-dehk was coming back to the castle tomorrow. He didn’t exactly relish the idea, but at least he wouldn’t be alone. At least, he hoped not. Unless a miracle happened, Adiyan herself would be in no shape to accompany him, but surely she would be able to find someone to lend him a hand. Someone who knew what they were doing when it came to mercantile affairs.

He decided not to dwell too much on those matters as he stood up and returned his hat to its rightful place atop his head. There were more pressing concerns that needed his immediate attention.

“My weapons?” He asked the guard commander once they had walked a fair enough distance away from the king. The dour man didn’t say a word, and merely gestured to a couple of guards. They slipped away into a corridor for a moment before reappearing just as swiftly with Sjan-dehk’s array of arms. “That was very quick. Your armoury is close?”

“No, but I have performed this role long enough to know when an audience is about to end, and thus act accordingly to expedite things for his majesty.” That came as a surprise to Sjan-dehk; he hadn’t expected the guard commander to offer an actual response. Pride dripped from his words as he continued, “I had my men collect your effects once his majesty asked you to return tomorrow. I knew you would be leaving soon after that.”

“His grace is lucky. Good guards are ah…Are hard to find, yes?” The two of them stopped a short walk away from the exit, and within earshot of the guards approaching the white-haired girl. With a snap of his fingers, the guard commander beckoned the two guards to approach. One-by-one, they returned to Sjan-dehk his weapons, starting with the firearms. With each, he swiftly checked them for damages with well-practised eyes before slipping them back into their holsters.

A thin smile stretched the guard commander’s lips. “How kind of you to say so. I won’t claim to be the best guardsman, but I do try my best.”

Sjan-dehk glanced up from the lock of the carbine. “Humility.” The way those syllables tumbled from his lips reminded him of the clumsy girl, and reminded him that he didn’t have much time to pull off whatever mischief he had planned. “That is a fine virtue.”

The commander chuckled. Sjan-dehk slung the carbine across his back, then took both swords out of the guards’ hands. “You are far too kind, but yes, that’s true.” Both scabbards slid back into their frogs, metal fittings catching securely onto the rough-cut leather. The guard commander continued to talk, but by now Sjan-dehk was no longer listening. “Sadly, virtue isn’t something easily found these days. It doesn’t make it easy recruiting more guards. If I had the choice, I would–”

His words were cut short by the sound of steel scraping against wood.

With a look of as much innocence as he could muster, Sjan-dehk had pulled one of his swords half-out from its sheath. Bright metal gleamed beneath the ballroom’s light. “What do you think you’re doing!” the guard commander bellowed and raised his weapon. The rest of his men followed suit, and from what he could hear, Sjan-dehk guessed some of those sent against the girl had shifted their attention to him. “Put that sword away, now!”

“Calm, calm.” For Sjan-dehk, the real challenge here was to keep the playful mischief sparking within him from seeping into his words. A tinge of fear and worry tugged at his mind, but he paid it no heed. It wasn’t as if he had pulled out his sword in its entirety, or had a pistol drawn. The guards wouldn’t be so quick to kill him just yet. He simply had to be careful with his words and actions. “Just ah…checking the blade, no? You do not do this here? After you let another touch your weapon?”

“Not in the presence of a king!” The guard commander hissed.

“Oh, apologies,” Sjan-dehk said, doing his utmost to sound genuinely surprised. The rounded hilt of his sword clacked against the scabbard as he sheathed it with a flourish. “I am still not used to your customs here. In Viserjanta, it is okay to draw weapons at court.” His words were sheepish, but it was a bold-faced lie. He wouldn’t even be allowed to openly carry a fruit knife in his own father’s halls. Not without explicit permission, at the very least. However, Sjan-dehk felt quite certain that no one in this ballroom knew much about Viserjantan customs. It was an advantage he was determined to push while it lasted.

The guard commander took two large steps towards him. His eyes burned with barely-disguised fury and his words were just as incendiary. “This is Caesonia. You will learn our ways and you will remember them if you want to stay out of trouble while you’re here. We’ll have none of your savage ways.”

A younger Sjan-dehk, and a more impulsive Sjan-dehk, would have certainly responded to that final slight with a challenge of his own. It would have been justified; the guard commander had practically spat on the honour of all of Viserjanta before his very eyes. Experience was a harsh teacher, however, and Sjan-dehk remembered her lessons well. This was not a fight worth pursuing. He had already pushed his luck far enough and achieved whatever he could hope to achieve.

“I will do that, captain.” This time, he was unable to suppress his cheeky grin. Not that he would’ve wanted to, anyway. There was no point in putting up an act any longer. “Your advice is most welcome.”

The guard commander fixed Sjan-dehk with his cold gaze for a few moments. “Him and the girl,” he said to his men without taking his eyes off the Viserjantan. “Escort them out. Now.”

In hindsight, Sjan-dehk realised that he had gone through all that trouble for painfully little. The girl was still escorted under guard out of the ballroom, only now he followed several steps behind. There was one saving grace, he supposed; between the two of them, the guards were understandably a lot more wary of and kept a closer watch on him. Maybe that took some of the pressure away from the girl, or maybe it didn’t. Who knew? Sjan-dehk was happy enough knowing that he did something. That was a small victory he could walk away with.

It didn’t matter, in any case. Soon enough, he was back in the entrance hall, and lost sight of the girl in the thronging waiting crowd. Sjan-dehk didn’t dwell too much on her, either; his mind was far too occupied with what he needed to do once he returned to his Sada Kurau. First of all, he had to tell Hai-shuun to forget about any big repairs and focus on making the Celestine look presentable for an inspection in short order. Then he had to send someone to the Sudah to ask for trade samples for the king’s representatives to peruse, and after that there was of course his dreaded meeting with the Sudah’s captain for an undeserved tongue-lashing, and then he had to meet with Adiyan to let her know the day’s events–

He was snapped out of his thoughts when he felt himself bump into someone. It was a little harder than what he would’ve expected jostling through this crowd, and so he spun around and saw a woman before him. She was a head or so shorter than him, with tawny skin that reminded him of – of all things – a ship which had paled beneath the sun. Her clothes marked her apart from the crowd, and Sjan-dehk guessed that she was, like him, not a native to these lands. “Apologies!” He said quickly, placing a hand on his chest and bowing deeply. “It was my fault. I did not see where I was going. Are you hurt?”

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Mentions: @Princess Edin @Terrance420 Alden

That didn’t quite go as Sjan-dehk had planned.

Or maybe it had, but he just didn’t know it yet. Either way, he didn’t receive the definitive answer he had hoped for. Nothing he could relay to Hai-shuun with confidence, at the very least. As far as he understood, there was still a chance of the Celestine falling into Caesonian hands, and that alone was enough to bring him some measure of displeasure. Thankfully, he caught the dreary sigh of resignation just as it formed in his mouth and manifested it in his head instead. If only he knew more words – better words – to describe the state of the hulk.

Not that the royal tutor would have ever taught him such words, even if plied with the right amount of rice wine from the Sudah’s holds. Sjan-dehk doubted the overly-sober and staid man would ever teach him how to say ‘an utterly fucked shit-heap with piss-all to sail’ in Caesonian.

Regardless, there was no point dwelling on the matter. Whether or not he would be able to keep his prize was up to fate, and – as many a wise philosopher had said – she was as fickle and uncertain as the wind and waves. In all honesty, he would much rather take his chances with the latter two. At least they could be somewhat predicted.

For the first time since kneeling, Sjan-dehk straightened his back and looked up. With deliberate yet crisp movements, he brought both hands down, lying his left flat on his chest. Had he his sword, his right would be resting upon its hilt. Instead, he balled it into a fist and pressed it against his hip. Normally, he would have waited until permission was given to be at ease like this, but Sjan-dehk doubted either the king or his advisor knew much about Viserjantan courtly rituals. Besides, he felt certain that they wanted this to be over and done quickly as much as him. Mucking about with pomp would just waste everyone’s time.

“Thank you, wise one,” he said to the advisor with a shallow bow at the waist. Sharply dressed and with an erudite air about both his words and person, he looked exactly how Sjan-dehk expected a man who could stand beside and have the ear of a king to look. Clearly, he was as capable as he looked, as the king all but echoed his words. “This one and Sada Kurau do not tire fighting pirates. Your words are…” He tried to think of an appropriate word, but could only come up with, “most welcome, wise one. This one will pass your words to Lady Adiyan.”

Sjan-dehk shifted his gaze over to the king. When the Viserjantan had first stepped into the ballroom, the imposing man had appeared to dominate and fill the entire space. Up close, however, Sjan-dehk couldn’t help but notice how normal the man looked. He still sat in the same domineering position, had the same domineering visage, and domineering posture, but now Sjan-dehk saw dark familiarity in them. Years of fighting in a dreadful civil war had seen him face many such people. Those who had the force of person to seek and acquire power in a time of chaos. Those who crowned themselves king over lands they did not deserve and played with lives them had no rights over. Most of them, Sjan-dehk had slain in battle. The rest, he had sent to the hangman’s noose for a traitor’s reward.

Biting on his lip, Sjan-dehk averted his eyes and blinked the thoughts away. Now was not the time for him to go back down that hole. The war was over. Only just, but over it was and more importantly, it had been fought on lands and seas far, far away from here. Nothing to do with Sorian. Nothing to do with a king who had so far – understandable snappiness aside – treated him with nothing but courtesy and politeness.

A king whose question required an answer, no less. Sjan-dehk cleared his throat and focused his gaze on the floor just in front of his foot. “This one thanks you, your grace. This one will make sure the crew does not cause your grace trouble.” He dipped his head slightly in a quick bow. “This one would…Humbly ask that this one is with your grace’s men when they go to Sada Kurau. This one’s crew do not speak your grace’s tongue well. This one also…requests your grace to…inspect the captured ship when this one is present for the same reason.”

Telling a king – or any higher-ranked noble, for that matter – what to do was always risky. Sjan-dehk had been on the receiving end of many a tongue-lashing for that very reason before. Usually when said noble made the mistake of believing military acumen came with their titles. He just hoped that this king would be able to see the reason behind his words.

That brought him to the question of trade goods.

Sjan-dehk knew what the Sudah held in her holds, of course. Every good captain knew better than to sail with a ship whose cargo was unknown. Details of any plans for trade, however, were a mystery to him. As far as anyone on this expedition was concerned, he was just an escort. Lady Adiyan was the one who had been planning negotiations and whatnot. Sjan-dehk couldn’t tell the king that, however; it wouldn’t inspire any confidence and would likely cause Adiyan trouble later on. “This one apologises.” A sprinkling of truth was always a good and comfortable way to begin. “Lady Adiyan knows more about trade. But this one knows the Sudah carries silks, wines, spices, jewels, metals, books, wood works. All the best Viserjanta can offer, your grace.”

There were other things Sjan-dehk had seen on the cargo manifests, things he had refrained from telling the king on purpose. War had seen every Viserjantan fiefdom and kingdom manufacture arms on massive scales. Now no longer needed, they were little more than barter goods. Everything from muskets and rifles to bows and swords, from crossbows to cannons, were buried deep in the Sudah’s holds. Judging by the numbers Sjan-dehk had seen on the manifests, there was likely enough to equip a small army. Had he his way, none of that would have been brought here. If Lady Adiyan wanted to trade with them, then she could tell the king that herself.

He said nothing more. Hopefully, the king would be content with what little details he could share. Well, he had to be. There was not much else Sjan-dehk could add without starting a tapestry of lies, and he wasn't about to do that. There was already enough headaches on his plate, namely the souring of the muscles in his legs from all this kneeling, and the tiring of his tongue from speaking this unfamiliar, foreign tongue.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Mentions: @Princess Edin

The guard commander snapped to a smart salute and turned back to Sjan-dehk. Furrowed brows and lips pressed together in a thin crack upon his stony visage loured at the Viserjantan captain. Whatever doubts and misgivings he had, however, remained unsaid. With a crisp wave of his hand, the rest of the guards took up positions on either side of Sjan-dehk. “Calmly now, stranger. Keep your hands by your side and no sudden moves.” He nodded to his guards and turned, leading the way towards the king.

It was all quite strange. Deep in his heart, Sjan-dehk knew he should feel intimidated – even cowed – by this display of power and authority. The amusement he felt came as a surprise even to him. Perhaps it was how unnecessarily careful the guard commander was behaving that did it. What could Sjan-dehk do to the king as an unarmed man? Saunter up to him and slowly beat the man to death while everyone patiently watched? Just the very thought was incredulous enough to make him want to laugh. Thankfully, he managed to keep it to just a flash of an impish smile.

“You worry too much. Too much stress. Not good for health, no?” Sjan-dehk said to the commander, voice light-hearted and kept low. The look the man shot over his shoulder told him that the advice was neither wanted nor welcome. Sjan-dehk merely shrugged in response. “Just advice. Captain to captain, yes?”

He kept quiet as they passed the princes. As the king drew nearer, Sjan-dehk became all too aware of his lack of preparation. If only he had committed more of the tutor’s script to memory. Though he had looked it once over before leaving his Sada Kurau, he now wondered just how much of it he could reproduce with both accuracy and the proper customs. Neither did he feel properly dressed. Much as he disliked wearing the overly-smooth silks and overly-decorated robes of courtly dress, they would certainly suit this situation better than his simple captain’s garb.

Well, it was all too late for that. Sjan-dehk would have to – like any good sailor – tack to the winds and turn to the waves as they came. He tugged on the thin scarf between his clothes and armour, pulling it up and tighter around his neck to straighten out the creases. Whatever laces and drawstrings that kept his attire on his person had been tucked somewhere secure when he first threw them on, but all the same he gave himself cursory glances and surreptitious pats to make sure. The least he could do before speaking to the king was to make himself look as neat as possible.

"Now give me your name and reason for appearing. I doubt you are here to seduce my sons and surely hope that's not the case. I will hear you out for a brief time. I am a very busy man!” The trailing laugh at the end aside, the king’s words were a touch stricter and harsher than before to Sjan-dehk’s ears. Not that it was unwarranted, of course. Sjan-dehk was likely interrupting something important and – as he had long ago learned the hard way – kings and queens were loath to have their schedules disrupted.

Even so, the king still had the politeness to end his words with a, “Thank you.”

Now it was up to Sjan-dehk to repay that little bit of courtesy with some of his own. Slowly, and using both hands, he pushed his hat up and back. It hung by its chin-straps on his back, and revealed his scarred and weather-beaten face. How was he supposed to act, again? The tutor had instructed him on certain actions and gestures, but those were for someone lesser than a king. Surely going through those motions in front of a king would be a mistake.

And so, Sjan-dehk simply did what he knew. He hadn’t met a monarch who didn’t enjoy seeing a display of humility and self-deprecation.

Sliding his left foot back, he dropped to a knee. At the same time, he brought his open left hand up to his chest. All the while, he kept his head bowed and eyes averted. It all felt so false and melodramatic, but a court demanded courtly things. For now, he was just an actor with a part to play. “Your grace,” he began even as his mind raced to recall the proper words. “This one…” What was that word again? “Apologises for…” If only he had practised a little more. “Interrupting court.”

He cleared his throat, bringing his left hand forward to meet his right above his head, directly between the king’s eyes and himself. The fingers and thumb of the latter wrapped around the base of the former’s thumb. “This one is Wasun Sjan-dehk. Captain of Sada Kurau and fourth lesser marquis of Jafi. Servant of Viserjanta and her most eminent and wise, High Queen Daraya, second of her name.” Sjan-dehk made a note to thank the tutor later; though his tongue tripped over a syllable here and there, the words were still flowing a lot smoother now that he had memories of the script to fall back upon. Of course, he was certain he had missed a word or two here and there, but the king was a busy man. Surely he would appreciate it if things were kept short and to-the-point.

“This one was sent with ships to your city to trade. We sailed for many weeks,” He continued. All he had to do was focus on recalling the script. Then he would be done here in a short order and back aboard his Sada Kurau. “But pirates attacked us days ago. Lady Adiyan, the–” he cleared his throat as he tried his damnedest to remember the specific word, but ultimately failed. “–one who speaks on such things, was injured in the fighting. This one apologises for her absence.”

After so many words, he could finally address his real reason for being here. “This one and Sada Kurau captured the pirate ship and crew. It was a damn good fight. Sada Kurau razed the bastard.” A little grin crept across his face as memories of the fight began to fill his mind; of the perfect stern rake they had inflicted on the Celestine; of the pirate’s confidence turning to dread; of the swelling ecstasy of victory filling him at the end.

Then his mind caught up with his mouth. Perhaps the words were flowing too smoothly. His cheeks heated up and he drew in a sharp breath. “...As this one’s crew say, your grace,” he quickly added, hoping the king wouldn't take too much offence by his brief slips of the tongue. In his mind, Sjan-dehk apologised to the tutor. Best he finished things up quickly lest he sabotage his own efforts thus far. “This one is here for two reasons, your grace. The prisoners are people of your grace’s land. This one would hand them to your grace’s court for…your grace to decide what to do with them.”

He paused to catch his breath and consider his next words. How best to offer a king the Celestine while also highlighting its dismal state? “This one also offers you the ship this one captured, your grace, but she is very badly…damaged, your grace. Her mast and stern, they are spoiled. Her hull has many holes. She needs a lot of repairs. But this one captured her in your waters. So this one must offer this ruined and…unworthy ship to your grace.” That was probably good enough. It had to be; he didn't know enough words to vocalise the rest of his thoughts.

Sjan-dehk let out a long breath at the end. That was enough polite and courtly speech and mannerisms to last him a good long while. Now he just had to hope the king was in enough of a rush to end this quickly.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Mentions: @Princess Edin and Albert Alfred Alden

‘To live humbly is to live harmoniously. To live harmoniously is to live virtuously.’

A great sage wrote those words a long time ago, with ink scratched upon bamboo strips long-since rotted away, in a kingdom long-since conquered, and for a royal family long-since extinguished. How that couplet survived the centuries was a mystery, but every Viserjantan noble knew it by heart and were expected by both peers and masses to uphold it in every aspect of their lives. As with all ancient wisdoms, every clan and family had their own ways of interpreting it. The Wasun of Jafi espoused the humility proselytised and took it – as some might say – quite far.

It was thus no surprise to Sjan-dehk that, upon stepping into the grandiose ballroom, he felt more than a twinge of discomfort tug at both heart and mind. Cavernous and opulent, it was the furthest thing from the austere and plain halls of his family. Walls and flooring of treated wood were the norm there, and whatever decorations that were allowed were of simple designs. Tried as he might, Sjan-dehk couldn’t help himself from looking at the walls and ceiling like some aimless and confused wayfarer. He kept a hand on the sling of his carbine, if only because he didn’t know what to do with it.

The moment he laid eyes on the people on the other end of the ballroom, he knew he should have waited outside instead of following the women in. An imposing – almost imperious – man sat on a lavish throne that was about as magnificent as the room itself. That had to be the king, and the elegantly dressed man beside him a likely advisor. Before them were three younger men. All well-groomed and regal as far as Sjan-dehk could tell, and all with the all-too-familiar aura of people far above him in terms of station. Those must be the sons Dev had mentioned earlier.

Women, princes, and a king. Sjan-dehk recognised a matchmaking session when he saw one. He did not belong here. Much as he wanted to resolve the issue of the Celestine and her former crew, he wasn’t as rash and foolhardy as to interrupt a royal affair.

Sjan-dehk stepped aside and allowed the women behind him to pass. It was too late to exit the room now; surely everyone present had seen him. Instead, he tried to slowly back his way towards a corner. Slowly and carefully, with no big movements to draw any further attention to himself. With enough luck, he could wait there until all was done. It was anyone’s guess how long that would take, but it was the polite thing to do. Hai-shuun would have to wait a little longer for further orders, but Sjan-dehk would rather try the man’s patience than risk sabotaging trade negotiations before they even began.

“You there!” The booming shout was accompanied by the slap of palms against wood.

Well, that was likely his shortest-lived idea. Sjan-dehk looking towards the throne. The king stood behind his sons, the combination of his stature and position giving him even more of a domineering presence. His eyes regarded Sjan-dehk with suspicion. Unwilling to show any cowardice, Sjan-dehk pushed up the brim of his hat and looked back. He was about to pay his respects and begin with his introductions when the king spoke once more.

“If you are here to speak to me, you will allow my guards to confiscate your weapons, for the time being, then let them escort you to speak to my advisor and I privately. If you are here to seek out my sons or intend to speak to me while armed, then you must leave.” Then, as if it were nothing more than a mere afterthought, he added, “And thank you.”

As it had been with the harbour master and the labourer, Sjan-dehk either didn’t understand or didn’t catch every one of the king’s words. Still, it was enough to discern two things. One, the two guards at the gate likely had a proper tongue-lashing to look forward to – if they could even keep their jobs – and two, the king seemed a reasonable and well-mannered man. Not many would have reacted as he had to an armed stranger in the presence of his family. He had even thanked him. Sure, it sounded like it had just been an act of courtesy, but that still said something about the man.

Yes, this was turning out better than Sjan-dehk had expected. Even if there was a contingent of armed and very cautious guards approaching him.

“Slowly, stranger,” one of them said carefully. Judging by how the other guards seemed to fall in a step or two behind him, Sjan-dehk assumed him to be their commander. “No sudden moves. Put whatever arms you have on your person on the floor. My men will take care of them.”

Sjan-dehk offered a friendly smile and slowly raised his hands in front of him, palms out. This all felt a little too familiar. He hoped it wouldn’t turn into a habit. “I mean no trouble,” he said, keeping his voice calm and level. As smooth as things were going, he wasn’t blind to the possibility of things taking an unpleasant turn simply because someone said or did something wrong. He made sure every guard could see him as he brought a hand to the strap of his carbine. “I am taking this off.” Sjan-dehk shifted his gaze between the armed men arrayed in front of him as he passed the thick strip of leather over his head. They bristled and gripped their weapons tightly, none taking a breath until the wooden stock of the carbine rested on the floor with a quiet clack.

Everything progressed a little quicker after that. Soon enough, Sjan-dehk had all of his weapons laid out on the floor in front of him. Ordered and neat, as if he were presenting them for inspection. “That’s all you have?” The commander asked. Sjan-dehk nodded and turned in a slow circle to show his empty holsters and scabbard frogs. That seemed to satisfy the man, and he gestured for two of his guards to collect the weapons.

“Careful,” Sjan-dehk said with a little grin that faded as quickly as it appeared. “They are loaded. Do not drop them. Would be dangerous.”

It was a half-truth at best. Yes, there was shot in the chamber and powder in the pan, but they were only half-cocked and so even an accidental misfire wouldn’t set them off. Sjan-dehk just wanted the guards to be careful while carrying them. The last thing he needed was a damaged spring or some other intricate part of the mechanism from being dropped. Mursi would never let him hear the end of it for a few days, at least. The two guards carrying his weapons nodded their understanding with nervous looks.

For his part, the guard commander didn’t seem too bothered by it. “Don’t worry, they’ll be stored in our armoury. No one will touch them until you return.” He nodded to the two guards who quickly scurried out of the ballroom with haste.

Now unburdened by his weapons, Sjan-dehk felt a lot lighter, but also a lot more exposed. He would have liked to keep at least one sword on his person, but arguing now would do little more than to prolong his time here. Besides, it wouldn’t make a lick of difference. Even if he were fully armed, it would take either a lot of luck or divine intervention for him to fight his way back to his ship if things turned ugly. Well, he did still have his fists and legs, even if he hadn’t done much unarmed combat in recent days–

He nipped that thought in the bud. What was he thinking? He was here as a noble, speaking to a king in peace. For now, he was Wasun Sjan-dehk the fourth lesser marquis of Jafi. Not captain Sjan-dehk of the Sada Kurau. Just thinking of it left a foul taste in his mouth – he far preferred the latter role – but such was the way of things. One either learned to adapt or learned to suffer, as some of the great sages of old would put so eloquently.

“All okay?” He asked.

The commander bit on his lip and looked Sjan-dehk up and down once before nodding. He waved for the guards to stand back before turning and looking to his king, awaiting his next orders.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Mentions: @Potter Layla @SausagePat Ruby @Rodiak Zarai

It had taken Sjan-dehk more time than he cared to admit, but he was here at last. The castle. At the very least, it was within sight. Grey stone and painted roofs reached for a sky of soft azure and clouds of pure white behind a beautifully-carved fountain and across a small plaza. As he had just found out, the walls that he had been following – and which had been mocking him – the entire time he had spent wandering around the city like a headless chicken weren’t the walls of the actual castle. They merely sequestered a quieter, smaller town away from the rest of Sorian.

The real castle was a little ways farther in. Thankfully, it was plainly visible from the arched gateway which Sjan-dehk had just walked through. He would have been sorely tempted to simply call it a day and return to his Sada Kurau had he simply left one maze for another.

Well, to be perfectly honest, the temptation was still there. Only the reason differed.

The castle town was quiet. Serene, peaceful, with only vague murmurs of activity drifting through the plaza from its orderly streets and well-kept boulevards. Lilting birdsong floated in from verdant trees. Whatever din Sjan-dehk had experienced in the slums may as well have been naught but a distant memory or hazy dream. Washed-out cobblestones tapped a steady beat against his boots with each step. The thin crowd of well-dressed and well-groomed people glanced in his direction as he passed. Most were curious, but he wasn’t oblivious to the guarded stares and suspicious gazes he received. Sjan-dehk simply tipped his hat towards those whose eyes he met and continued on his way.

One might be forgiven that he – casual and smooth as he carried himself – was fully at ease. That could not be farther from the truth.

Something about this place sat poorly with him. The tranquillity felt a little too oppressive; the orderliness a mite too unnatural; the cleanliness a touch too barren. As if the wall that separated the quarter from the rest of Sorian kept the city’s liveliness out as well. Sjan-dehk didn’t like it in the least. There was life here, of course, but nothing felt alive. That didn’t make as much sense as he hoped even to himself, but all he knew was that he wanted to spend as little time here as possible. Perhaps he was far too accustomed to the rowdier parts of a city. Even in his native Jafi, he spent most of his time ashore mucking about in the rougher quarters, much to his mother’s chagrin.

Or perhaps it was his natural aversion to stately affairs trying to concoct a reason for him to leave before he had to play the part of a noble before the city’s lord.

Whatever it was, it didn’t matter. The tap of his boots against stones soon turned into dull thumps against wood as he crossed the drawbridge spanning the moat. A pair of guards stood a little too at ease beneath the massive gatehouse. They appeared to be too engrossed in their conversation to notice Sjan-dehk as he approached, but quickly sprang into action once they noticed him. Weapons and armour rattled and clanged against each other as they stood up straight. “Stop! Identify yourself!” One of them shouted with an outstretched hand.

Sjan-dehk had been prepared for this. If anything, he was surprised that he hadn’t been stopped by any guards earlier, armed and armoured as he was. Keeping his movements slow and deliberate, he raised his hands and presented two open palms to the guards. “I am Wasun Sjan-dehk of Viserjanta.” He kept his tone calm, looking at each guard in turn as he spoke. Clean-shaven and well-groomed, neither looked as if they were any older than himself. “I mean no trouble. I am here to speak with your lord.”

“Who of where?” the same guard asked, thin and pock-marked face scrunched in confusion.

The other guard spoke up. He was shorter than his partner, but with a stockier physique and a friendlier countenance. “Think I ‘eard that place in a book once.” He nodded towards Sjan-dehk. “‘Is people traded ‘ere years ago. Long ‘fore any of us were born.” Both Sjan-dehk and the other guard turned to look at him, and he merely offered a shrug in response. “I’ve been readin’. Guard commander always said we ‘ave to keep our wits about us, aye?”

“He looked pretty well-armed for a trader,” the thinner guard said and looked down his nose at Sjan-dehk with his dull, blue eyes. “What do you have on you? Two swords, two pistols, one musket? You look more like you’re here to kill our lord, not speak with him as you claim.”

“Four pistols,” Sjan-dehk corrected and turned slightly to show them the weapons on his back. “Also you are right. I am not a trader. I am the fourth lesser marquis of Jafi and captain of Sada Kurau. My ship. We docked at your harbour this morning.”

“I don’t know, Jas,” the shorter guard said. “‘E seems pretty honest. ‘Is rank sounds important too, what if ‘e’s another one of those late notice guests we don’t know about?”

Jas scowled. “Another one? At this time? They might as well let us go home.”

Despite the delay, Sjan-dehk found himself fighting back the urge to grin. There was comforting familiarity in hearing the banter between these two soldiers. Granted, had they been his crew, he would’ve likely told them to focus on their work by now, especially since these two had the rather important task of guarding the castle’s gates. However, Sjan-dehk wasn’t about to tell another commander how to do their job. He had his own matters to take care of, in any case. “If it would help, I can leave my weapons with you.”

For a moment, Jas seemed to consider the offer. Then he sighed. “Nah,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “The number of armed people I’ve let in these past two days, another one isn’t going to change a damn thing. Just watch yourself. If you do get an audience, that is. There’s some fancy nonsense going on that we’re not paid enough to understand. Ladies been coming non-stop. You’re the first man Dev here and I’ve seen this morning.”

“King’s tryin’ to get ‘is sons wives, is what I’ve ‘eard,” Dev said.

“King?” Sjan-dehk asked and furrowed his brow. That complicated things slightly. All this time, he had been preparing himself to speak to a duke or perhaps even archduke. A king felt far too important, far too powerful to be met with a lowly lesser marquis like Sjan-dehk. Perhaps he should have listened to the tutor after all, and learned to live with dressing in fine silks. For now, all he could do was just hope that this king wouldn’t be too put off by a soldier’s attire.

“Aye, King Edin runs this ‘ere place,” Dev replied. Shuffling a little closer and speaking in a lower voice, he continued, “Between you an’ me, I ‘aven’t ‘eard much good about ‘im–”

“Quiet!” Jas hissed and slapped his partner on the back, hard enough to almost send Dev flying forward and onto the bridge. “Are you trying to get us both kicked out of the guard or worse, killed?” He looked at Sjan-dehk and tilted his head towards the castle’s courtyard. “Don’t mind him. He’s just sharing some guardroom talk he really shouldn’t be sharing. Head on in and good luck with your audience.”

Sjan-dehk nodded his understanding. “We all have problems with our superiors,” he said with a knowing smirk as he passed the guards. There was some truth in that; while Sjan-dehk was strictly speaking the only noble on this expedition, he ultimately had to bow to the whims and requests of the various officials and bureaucrats aboard the Sudah. Except for the captain, of course. Sjan-dehk outranked him so long as they were on land, and that was perhaps one reason why that man had yet to even make his presence known to the local dockworkers.

As he crossed the courtyard, Sjan-dehk pushed whatever worries he had about meeting a king out of his mind. Duke, archduke, king, what did it matter? They all outranked a lesser marquis. This wasn’t anything Sjan-dehk had never done before. He just had to be polite and humble, and bite his tongue whenever he felt like saying something that shouldn’t be said in a courtly scenario. No one could expect anything more from him.

The doors to the entrance hall groaned as Sjan-dehk pushed them open. Immediately, he was struck by how packed the room was. Then, he noticed that they were all women. Surely the king and his sons didn’t intend to meet with every single last one of them? Sjan-dehk doubted there was enough daylight to give each lady a fair assessment. For a moment, he wondered if the local nobility practised concubinage as was the custom in Viserjanta until rather recently. Sjan-dehk’s high queen, Daraya the second, had made the practice illegal almost as soon as she ascended the Saffron Throne. In fact, one of Sjan-dehk’s last assignments before coming to Sorian had been to intercept ships transporting slaves meant for some depraved minor noble to build their own little harem.

Sjan-dehk hoped that wasn’t the case. Considering what he had done to the people he had caught plying such a sordid trade, it would make things awkward, to say the least.

Well, even if it was, what did it matter to him? This wasn’t Viserjanta. The locals here had their own laws and their own ways of doing things. It wasn’t Sjan-dehk’s place to judge whether it was right or wrong, and it certainly wasn’t something worth sticking his nose into. All he wanted to do was to offload his prisoners, figure out what to do with the rescued captives still aboard the Sudah, and more importantly, settle the fate of the Celestine once and for all. Nothing more.

“Excuse me.” He repeated that phrase, each time with a tip of his hat, as he gently made his way through the crowd to an emptier spot near the front of the room. Once again, he was all too aware of the strange looks he was getting, but this time he couldn’t in good faith fault anyone for it, for there were a number of women who caught his eye by their distinctiveness. There was the one in a wheelchair, who looked frail as she was bored; a white-haired girl with strikingly mis-matched eyes whose dress looked a touch less refined than the others, but then who was Sjan-dehk to say? In his yellow-and-white captain’s grab, and as well-armed and armoured as he was, he looked like he was ready to go to war at a moment’s notice.

His eyes lingered over the two women for a moment longer than he was comfortable with, and he quickly looked away to his destination. A relatively empty corner where he could lean against the wall. Opposite him was a dark lady, but it wasn’t her who drew his gaze. It was the deadly-looking snake sitting by her side. Now that was certainly something new, and Sjan-dehk wondered if her people tamed snakes as practice or if that one was just unique. He hoped it was the former, and that it was something that could be taught. The Viserjantan islands had no shortage of deadly constrictors and jungle vipers that would make excellent companions for the adventuring sort.

However, this was not the time for such conversations. He had a task to do. He simply hoped that the wait wouldn’t be too long.