Molyneux Rising

[Arden]

After a while, the assassin turned back to the desk and approached slowly. Arden was deep in concentration, staring at the map and the battle lines drawn out by the captain. He leant forwards to take in the landscape, knuckles still balled on the desk and back straightened. She walked around the edges of the room clockwise, careful not to distract him whilst he decided on how to proceed. She took in the spines of the books on display and stopped when one caught her eye to slip it from the shelf.

“I saw it too.”

She turned about, startled, and nearly dropped the text.

“Don’t do that!” she cried.

“Sorry. I appreciate the concern, but you know I already decided what to do the moment I walked in here.” He pulled away from the desk and clicked his spine.

“You have?” Lilith raised an eyebrow.

“The captain has the right idea.” Pointing at the beachhead where they were set to land, the swordsman traced a line to the salt flats north where the forest spread east to meet the sea. A thin tendril of woodland, it cut off the mesa at the foot of the northern mountains and connected the Brokenthorn to the craggy outcrops once famous for its pirates.

“Forgive me for saying, but that doesn’t look like a good place to engage forest dwelling madmen.” She opened the book as she walked towards the desk and set it down on a page depicting a dusty, faded vision of Scara Brae of old. “What about here?” She tapped the page west of the beach where the meadowlands turned into buttercup mottled flatlands.

Arden smiled.

“You’ve been reading your Treaties of Battle.” He smiled appreciatively. “The rocks would provide a good vantage point for the archers, but I see your point.”

“From here, we can march south and rear attack the siege forces, cutting off their escape. If they do manage to push through our meagre battle line they’ll have a nasty surprise waiting for them.”

“A field of corpses is an effective deterrent.” Arden considered it, but couldn’t see how a hundred and fifty men, even lead by the siblings could hope to route an army. “We’ll have to send word to the guards on the wall to mount an offensive from the capital.” He frowned. “But that’s a problem for another day.” He compared both maps for a while whilst Lilith retrieved her geta and tied back her hair into a loose bun.

“I suppose you’ve thought about how we’re going to draw them out into the open?”

“A fire should do the trick,” the swordsman said non-chalant.

Lilith stopped mid-task with a bemused expression. She shrugged, dropped her hands to her side and sat back in her chair.

“Valeena’s going to regret saying ‘full disposal’ to you, isn’t she.”

“Not the forest, silly!”

“Oh.”

“I’m going to set fire to the ship.”

“Oh.” She immediately saw the appeal but remembered what ship they were on. “Arden…”

The swordsman turned and folded his arms across his chest. His expression said all it needed to.

“Okay. We set fire to the flagship of the Scara Braen Royal Guard…” She bit her lip, wondering why she always agreed with his schemes. “You’ll have to convince Killian though, I’m not touching that conversation with a barge pole.”

“We won’t need to.”

“We won’t ne-“ Lilith made herself look imposing, a look Arden new all too well.

“If you’d read the book properly you’d have learnt about the Battle of the Teeth.” He raised a hand to stay her objections. Her sheepish grin confirmed his suspicions. “You can’t just loo at the pictures Lilith.”

“I did read it. Months ago.” She pouted again. “I’ve had a lot on my mind so just tell me, gloat, and let’s go and see where we are shall we?” Brushing aside the sleight the assassin craned her head to suggest she was all ears.

[Arden]

The Liliana was not the largest vessel in the Scara Braen fleet. Two hundred feet from stern to keel, it was quick, low on the water, and sailed by forty men who were amongst the best that came through the island’s docklands. None were part of the Knights of Brae, but each had sworn fealty to the ship’s captain first, and Queen Valeena second. If Killian had chosen them personally, Arden had no doubt in his mind that there was no finer crew to be had. The captain’s quarter opened out onto a lower deck interrupted by three masts and surrounded by a raised balcony along starboard and prow from which the archers could fire and swordsman swarm boarders.

“It’s a fine ship.”

“Valeena commissioned it and named it after her mother.” Arden pointed to the tallest of the three masts. “There’s a plaque in the crow’s nest, some trite epitaph about raising those around you up higher than yourself.”

“She’s rather fond of melodrama, Her Highness.” Lilith covered her eyes to shield them from the glaring sun and shrugged. “Are you sure about burning it?” She pictured Valeena’s fury and had second doubts. The troupe had upset the royal household more than enough times to know how difficult life could be afterwards.

“Consider it an opportunity to drive our point home. If she wants things done no matter the cost, she has to be willing to sacrifice things as much as she expects her citizens to.” He gestured at the ship in general. “What better way to highlight the fact she’s not paid us a single gold and yet here we are, rushing headlong into civil war.”

“I didn’t know you could be so pragmatic.” She ventured further out onto the deck and rested a palm against a mast. “I can’t deny seeing her face when we return to the capital would be…amusing.”

“If she lets us, that is.”

“She won’t forget she has no choice in the matter, but that’s not say she won’t make life difficult.”

“You’d defy her so openly?” The assassin circled the mast, eyes skyward at the vigorous rigging that kept the ship speeding over open water at impressive speed.

“I’m a Maester. You’re a diplomatic envoy. It’d be more trouble than it’s worth to try and get rid of us.” Cocsure, the swordsman thought about his cloak and extended it down to the knees. He wrapped it around him and pointed to the keel.

To their east, the island protruded from the horizon and above it all the Comb Mountains, defying the landscape with it’s cloud covered range. By Arden’s measure they were already ten leagues away from the docklands and halfway to their objective. He too a deep breath of sea air and marched toward the steps leading up to the wheel.

Killian stood proud behind it, hands firmly on the wood steering his pride and joy over bucking waters. He nodded to the pair as they appeared in view and gestured for them to stand by him.

“Have you two stopped taking cheap shots at one another?” He beamed.

“We’ve…settled our differences, yes.” Lilith sat on a crate of rope bundles and crossed her legs. She leant back and took in the view. “Reunions are hard when you’ve got so much to talk about.”

“You two are a strange couple.”

“We are not a couple,” the assassin spat. “That there is my elder brother.”

Killian looked at them back and forth, struggling to see the resemblance.

“Sorry. You look like you’ve been married for decades.”

“To our art, maybe.” Arden rolled his eyes. “What do you know about the troupe exactly?” It was their turn to gauge Killian’s worth, and perhaps offer some insight into why they of all the heroes and villains in the world had been called in defence of Scara Brae.

“Members of the troupe called Restless Fugitive are proclaimed to be masters of their art.” The captain made his voice full of pomp, as though quoting from a royal proclamation. “Ageless and timeless, they recount the history of the world with grace and splendour.”

“Preferably without quoting from a flyer.” She glared.

“You’re old.” Killian smirked. “You’ve seen the rise and fall of Molyneux and lived through the Corpse and Civil wars. Heaven’s know how, but if I’ve learned anything about life in my short years it’s to not ask too many questions.”

“Five hundred and fifty years, give or take,” Lilith offered.

“I didn’t ask, but…” Kilian looked out to sea.

[Arden]

“We are able to harness the Tap. We are bound to one another in a way even we don’t truly understand. We have always fought for change and prosperity, and now we are free of the Forgotten One who made us this way our hearts remain on the same task.”

The captain looked back and stared intently at the swordsman. He turned the wheel a full rotation and began to steer the ship in a wide arc towards the shore. Gulls circled overhead, a sign that their brief jaunt onto open waters would soon come to an end.
“Forgotten One?” He had heard the name only in passing but found himself intrigued.

“Old evil, now dead. He made us puppets and through us controlled the fates of millions. We broke free, just like you did of your fate in the tower.”

“Hey, now, I was never in danger there.”

“We all were. If we were a second late with the helmet the city wouldn’t be standing. Moments like that must change you. Don’t you wonder about it?” Arden tried to sound sincere but only made himself more condescending.

“No. Never.” Killian sighed. “That was what, thirty years ago? I’ve done, and seen so much since one brush with death blurs into the next.” He grits his teeth. “Living a long life doesn’t make you any more or any less of a man than I.”

“That’s not what he’s suggesting, Killian.” Lilith struggled to find the right words, but remembered something her absent sister said to her in times of trouble. “We might be immortal, but it’s only through the songs people sing and stories they tell of our lives that make us truly ageless.”

“Will you tell my story, if I did?”

Arden chuckled.

“Captain Jeremiah, scourge of the Innari will be our best play yet!” He spread his arms in dramatic style.

“Don’t be cute, we’ll come up with something far more highbrow if you die here today.” Lilith, sincerely worried about the captain’s mood changed the subject. “We wanted to run through our plan before we land. We’ll need to send a raven to Starr too. He won't like having to get involved.”

Killian nodded and clapped his hands. The attentive, silent knight behind him stood to attention and approached. Green eyes glimmered from behind the veil of his steel, shining helmet.

“Fetch a raven, Jakor, and tell your men we make landfall in two turns.”

Arden mouthed ‘what’s a turn’ to Lilith, and she returned a silent gesture of ‘an hour’ before Killian turned back to them.

“Go on, then. What does the Hound wish for his pack?”

“Less word play, for one.” Arden rolled his eyes. “Fire ship, pincer movement, once defeated we travel south to rear charge the siege encampment.”