He took in a deep breath, reining in his anger, and stood. “Councilman Sabido, I realize your time is valuable. I will not take up any more of it.”
Sabido also stood, a flicker of relief darting over his face. “Thank you, General.”
With a nod to Sego, he led the way out of the door and into the outside air. “I do believe that man thought I was a spy for Brindisi,” he noted to Sego over his shoulder.
Anger flushed Sego’s fair skin an unhealthy bright red. “I can’t believe the gall of that man,” he fumed, cane slamming into the ground with every step. “His safety, the entire safety of Niotan, depends on you getting the information you need. And what does he do? Plays some petty power game with you!”
“We’ll find someone else to answer my questions,” Darius soothed. “I doubt he knew the nitty details that I need to ask about anyway.” He lifted his head to the sky and checked the position of the sun. It seemed to be somewhere around mid-afternoon, which meant he had just wasted an hour. He’d probably spend another hour just hunting down the right man to ask his questions. “Sego, go find us a good inn and book three rooms.”
“For how many nights?” his steward inquired dryly.
Darius waggled a finger at him. “Don’t jinx us. I’ll find someone in this city to talk to me, even if I have to sit on them to get the answers I need.” As an afterthought he added, “Take Bohme and Payam with you. I’ll take Tolk.”
“And where are you going to begin searching?” Sego asked. He clearly wanted to know where to start looking for Darius if he needed to.
He stood closer to the south side of the harbor than he did to the north. “Right here. I’ll work my way northward.” Darius ran a hand through his noticeably blond hair and sighed. Even in this city of foreign merchants and visitors, he’d stick out like a black horse in a desert. The odds of any native willingly talking to him were dismally low. “Wish me luck,” he sighed.
“Water and light be with you,” Sego offered, a little tentatively.
Darius stopped dead and snapped around, eyes wide. He hadn’t heard the traditional good wishing since he left Arape. Where and how had Sego learned it? Somehow, the words touched him deeply with a bittersweet feeling. “Thank you,” he responded a little huskily.
“I did get that right?” Sego asked uncertainly.
“Yes.” Darius cleared his throat to ease the tightness. “Yes, that was exactly right. I haven’t heard it in a long time. Where did you learn it?”
“There is a book of Arape customs in the palace library,” Sego admitted. “I’ve been reading it recently when I have a spare minute.”
A book of customs? He didn’t know that such a thing existed. “I’d like to take a look at it.”
“You probably should,” Sego said ruefully. “I don’t know how accurate this book is. It also claims that Arapeens only drink water, which I don’t think is true. I’ve seen you drink other things.”
Well, they
did
drink water more than anything but they didn’t solely drink just that. It would be very boring if they did. “Ahh…yes, I’d better read that book. I don’t think the author has everything straight. But for now, I’ll accept your well-wishing. Tolk?”
The bodyguard stopped relaxing in the shade of the building and came to stand at his side.
“After you’ve booked us in a good inn, try talking with some of the other officials here,” Darius suggested to Sego. “Maybe you can make more headway than I can. I need specifics on how these walls were constructed. I specifically need to know if we can add a gate to them and ports so that we can drain the harbor quickly.”
Sego’s brows furrowed a bit. “Of course, I’ll ask.” Although he clearly didn’t understand why Darius would need this information.
“I’ll explain it later,” he promised with a half-smile. “But we’re losing daylight. Go.” With a wave, he turned on his heel and started heading for the docks. “Tolk, if you were an old construction worker that had helped build this harbor, where would you be?”
“Harbor is forty years old,” Tolk pointed out dubiously. “Odds of any worker still being alive is slim.”
He unfortunately had a good point. “Alright, if you needed to know how the walls were built, who would you ask?”
Tolk thought about it for a long moment. “City maintenance crew?”
Darius felt like an idiot. Of
course
. Even the harbor walls would fall under the city to maintain and repair. “Tolk, you’re a genius. Where would their office be, I wonder?”
“No, don’t ask the officers,” Tolk corrected hastily. “They never know anything. Ask the actual
crew
. At this time of the day, could be at any tavern near the docks.”
Clearly, keeping Tolk with him had been a wise choice. “As you seem to know where to go, why don’t you lead the way and ask the questions?”
Tolk nodded and set off at a brisk walk. Darius followed and prayed they wouldn’t have to walk the length and breadth of the harbor before finding the right people that had the answers.
Six miles, three hours, and eighteen taverns later, they finally found a group of men that worked for the city maintenance crew that were willing to talk.
Tolk went ahead of Darius—they discovered early on that questions coming from a native Niotanan went over better—and Darius hovered just inside the doorway, waiting. For the first time, his bodyguard turned and gave him a nod, waving him forward. Relieved, Darius weaved his way in and around the tables. In this poorer section of the city, there were no chairs—simply low wooden tables and thin mats that men of every occupation sat on. Half the room remained empty at this early hour of the work day but it had signs of wear and tear on every wooden surface that he passed. A popular place indeed.
The group that sat around the table looked worn in. Skin leathery and tough from constant exposure to the sun, hair almost a light brown from being bleached by the sun’s rays, and they smelled strongly of salt. In fact, some of their shirts were still a bit damp which made Darius think they’d just gotten off shift.
There were five men altogether, and they looked up at him as he stopped at their table. Some of them were wary, some curious, but all watchful. Darius had no idea what Tolk had said to them to convince them to talk and he looked to his bodyguard for a cue of some kind.
“This is the General of the Niotan Army,” Tolk introduced quietly. “Raj, these men are part of the maintenance crew: Albak—” a balding man with a long scar along his right cheek nodded respectfully “—Babar—” the younger man sitting next to him had frizzy black hair and bulbous nose but a kind smile as he ducked into a seated half-bow “—Dara, his brother—” and they clearly were brothers as they had the same nose but Dara gave him a cautious look instead of a welcoming one. “Ehsan—” a scrawny man that looked barely out of his teens gave the barest hint of a nod, dark eyes narrowed in mistrust “—and Gabr.” Gabr struck Darius as the leader of the group as he studied Darius in a neutral way, clearly waiting on more information before passing judgment. His eyes were framed with several wrinkles, hair balding on top, hands scarred from a lifetime of work. Darius liked the look of him. If he approached Darius for a job of some sort, he’d likely hire him on the spot without checking his qualifications too carefully. Something about the man shouted
trustworthy
.
Darius gave them a very respectful inclination of the head. “Masters, I have some questions that I need answered.” Deciding a bit of flattery couldn’t hurt, he continued, “I tried speaking with the councilmen but they didn’t know how the city really works. So I thought I would track down the honest men who keep the city repaired and ask you instead.”
Gabr let loose a grin that revealed several missing teeth. “Smart. But I don’t trust a man that won’t give his name.”
Praying this wasn’t a mistake, Darius locked eyes with him and said frankly, “My name is Darius Bresalier.”
Every man at the table went taut. One of them let out a low whistle. Gabr just stared right back at him, grin in place, and let the silence stretch to the point of being very uncomfortable. “And what,” the man asked in a challenging tone, “is a high-falutin’ general doing asking questions of men like us?”
“The leaders of your city don’t trust me. I can understand why. But I
have
to know how this harbor is constructed. Your lives depend on it. My future in this country depends on it.”
Gabr still had that unreadable smile on his face, not letting any other emotion through. “Heard about what you did on the border. You fancy saving a country you nearly conquered? Strange if you do.”
“Is it?” Darius challenged in return, not backing down. “Niotan offered me a home when no one else dared to. All your queen asked for in return was my oath of loyalty and my military expertise. I think that gives me every right to save it.”
For a moment, Gabr’s smile became more genuine. He liked this answer. Extending a leg, he nudged a thin pillow next to him. “Sit down, General Darius Bresalier, and tell an old man how knowin’ how the port was built will help save me country.”
He felt like he’d just overcome some major hurdle. He sat down, gesturing for Tolk to join him at the table, which the bodyguard did although he kept a close eye on everyone and everything around him. Darius stole a look at the other four men as he crossed his legs comfortably. They were clearly not happy with him there but respected Gabr enough to let him sit. Or maybe their curiosity compelled them to hear him out.
I wish I had a huge tankard of water and about five minutes to plan this out. An
idle wish, as they clearly didn’t want to wait even five seconds. Darius prayed that this wouldn’t be confusing or jumbled, opened his mouth, and just started talking. “Niotan doesn’t have a navy or even the ships necessary to cobble one together. Brindisi, being land-locked, doesn’t either, but the difference is that the Sovran can hire a navy or borrow one from one of their conquered countries if they need to. Brindisi will not win by coming by land—I promise you that. I’ve stopped them before when I had limited troops and time to plan. This time, I have months to plan and to train more soldiers. The next time that Brindisi marches against us, they will not come anywhere
near
that border. After that, I think they’ll realize that they can’t win against me on land.” Rubbing at the back of his neck he added, “Well, it might take more than just one battle to convince them of that. But they’ll realize it fairly quickly. When they do, they’ll be forced to choose between one of two options: either give up on conquering Niotan or come again by sea.”
“And you think,” Dara said slowly, “that they’ll come by sea.”
“Yes,” he answered honestly, splaying his hands in a helpless shrug. “Yes, I do. But as I said before, we don’t have a navy. If they come into this harbor, we won’t be able to fight them off. Unless…” here he turned to meet each man’s eyes as he spoke “…I find a way to turn a naval battle into a land battle.”
Babar tapped a finger on the table, deep in thought. “Yep, I’m followin’. I follow up til you needin’ to know how the port’s made.”
Darius raised a finger. “The only way to turn a naval battle into a land battle is to ground the ships. I need to know if I can add a gate onto the port walls so that I can lock their ships into the harbor and trap them here. Once they’re inside, I need to let as much water as I can out, quickly, so that they can’t maneuver the boats around and break out first. Do you see?”
With a weather eye on Darius, Ehsan leaned closer to Abak and whispered, “Cracy’s riddled. Megalo blue for bunko like that.”
He turned a look on the man that froze him stiff. “I realize I don’t know much about this situation, but I’m not crazy.” Both men turned red when they realized he’d not only overheard them, but understood them. “There’s a lot of water, yes, and this idea of mine does depend on the element of surprise. But that’s why I’m talking to all of
you
, to see how feasible this is and if you can think of a better plan.” On instinct he switched to slang to add, “Not yabbering. Tonly rough-hands give ballyhoo—twig?”
Gabr banged a hand against the table, making everyone jump, threw back his head and laughed outright. “Whoo! What a general ya be to come talk to honest folk in their own tongue. You’re good people, Darius Bresalier.”
Darius gave him a flourish and a bow. “You honor me, good master.”
The man flashed his gape-toothed smile again. “Your plan has a few flaws, but you’re right to come to us. Ya mind gettin’ wet?”
Now how did he answer that question? Hoping he wouldn’t regret this later he said cautiously, “No. Why?”
“Cause you’re about to.” Gabr stood up with a grunt of effort. “Let me show you why it can’t be done.”
~~~
He’d done crazier things in his life but at this particular moment, he couldn’t think of a good example. Climbing into a rickety row boat with two men he barely knew and a bodyguard that didn’t know how to swim and then rowing to the opposite end of a harbor seemed a bit…risky. His paranoid side insisted that if they wanted to kill him and dump his body, it would be the perfect site for it. After all, there would be no witnesses.