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Landing
Part 2
The long, oak table in the dining hall was laden with food and clogged with people. Upon it were placed an assortment of cheeses, wines, and meats. Around it were seated Chancellor Yarena Hanser, Premier Glendon Fortinbras and both of their negotiating teams.
The chancellor and her husband, Lawrence, wore matching velvet robes, as was expected of Hansic heads of state. Upon the Khadashites’ arrival, Fortinbras had demanded that they be taken straight to dinner, so the guests were still wearing their brown and tan travel attire.
The dining room was large and spacious and was lit by a glowing chandelier. It had a rustic feel to it, but so did the rest of the parliamentary island complex. Hansehaven was the oldest settlement in the Hanse. Its history could be traced back to the beginning of the Age of Disquiet, making it nearly five centuries old. At only two hundred years, the mainland city was still considered new.
The visiting Khadashites had arrived three hours earlier following a six-hour trek along the River Odra. Now, as the clock fast approached midnight, everyone seemed to have been sitting for an eternity listening to Fortinbras’ forceful negotiations. The chancellor, having been caught off-guard earlier in the evening by the Khadashite premier’s directness, was frantically rifling through reports and files with the help of her husband.
“This is appalling,” rumbled Fortinbras. “I made it clear in my communiqué that I was coming to discuss terms for contracts to import coal, tar, copper and iron. You should have been prepared!”
The chancellor suppressed the urge to lash out at this man. “As I explained earlier, this was to be a social gathering. Neg—” She was interrupted by an aide who deposited another folder in her hand. She sighed before handing it to her husband. “Negotiations weren’t scheduled to begin until tomorrow afternoon. The delegate from the Alpas district hasn’t even arrived yet!”
“That isn’t my problem.”
“But it is,” voiced Lawrence coolly. “If you want us to increase iron exports, they have to come from Alpas, so you’re going to have to deal with that delegate.”
“That’s inefficient.” Dannia Fortinbras had a dark complexion like her father, though her features were more angular. With her arms folded across her chest and wearing a smug expression, she had spent most of the evening sitting quietly. Her instructions from the Chieftain had been clear: observe and record, and leave the politics to her father.
Lawrence leaned forward, nonplussed by her attitude. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Dannia sighed. “This whole political system, this economic alliance. Every decision has to be made by consensus. It takes too long and creates unnecessary levels of bureaucracy.”
“Our people have the freedom to elect governors who see to the needs of their own districts.”
Dannia returned his look with a smug expression. “Our people elect a single central government with the knowledge that the premier makes decisions for the good entire country, decisions that may involve sacrifices from certain local communities. Your system favors local needs over the needs of the whole, and in doing so, favors mediocrity.”
Lawrence was taken aback by this blatant statement. He eagerly leaped to his country’s defense as Chancellor Hanser, Fortinbras and their two teams continued negotiations, ignoring the argument taking place next to them.
Presently, a cleric of Samlah entered the dining room. The platinum depiction of a closed fist, a symbol that Samlah holds the soul of every person in thrall, patted lightly against the skin around her neck as she approached a burning brazier in the corner of the room. She checked the flame’s intensity before beginning the midnight ritual. She closed her eyes in silent prayer. Lawrence grabbed his wife’s arm to get her attention, and they joined the other dignitaries in the devotion. The high cleric sprinkled incense over the brazier and muttered a short prayer for the goodwill of the Forum. When the odor from the rite dissipated, the cleric exited the room.
Several quiet minutes followed. Chancellor Hanser approached Fortinbras and laid a hand on his arm. He seemed about to recoil from it, but he held himself in check. “Premier Fortinbras, we’ve been at this for hours, and there’s still much paperwork to do.” He was about to interject, but she cut him off. “I know that you want to conclude these arrangements quickly, but we all need some rest. We’ve agreed on the basic terms. I’ll have my people work through the night preparing draft contracts. They’ll be ready for your review in the morning.”
His expression softened. “I appreciate your effort to accommodate us. It’s just that there are times when it seems as if we live in different worlds.”
“Then we finally agree on something.” Chancellor Hanser turned to accept a note from a page who came scuttling into the room. Worried that it was yet another misplaced economic statement, she broke the seal and scanned it.
“It may take some time for us to boost our production of some of these commodities,” warned Lawrence. “Tar, coal, metals. Why do you need such drastic increases, anyway? You look like you’re preparing for a war.”
For the first time since he arrived, Fortinbras cracked a smile. “Maybe I am. Oh, there was one other thing. We want to import more grain.”
“The Highland and Khadashite districts are exceeding their capacities just to meet the quotas you demanded last month. Can you afford this?”
“Let me worry about our treasury. Don’t fret — you’ll get your money.”
“And with a twenty percent share of all contracts signed, your own account stands to gain quite a bit,” added Dannia.
“That twenty percent belongs to the national treasury,” defended Lawrence.
“Twenty percent less your own commission,” she corrected.
Chancellor Hanser gasped. She grabbed her husband and thrust the note into his hand. Noting the shock on her face, he quickly read it before passing it on to one of Chancellor Hanser’s junior delegates. He stood next to his wife, dumbfounded by what he had just seen.
“What’s going on?” asked Fortinbras. ‘What does it say?”
Lawrence maintained his composure, though his lips were pressed tightly together as he motioned for the note to be passed to the Khadashite premier. “This message just arrived by carrier bird from Rugen.”
Fortinbras read it and his voice betrayed confusion. “I don’t understand this. What does it mean? Who’s attacking you?”
As one, Lawrence and Yarena Hanser marched briskly to the nearby balcony which faced west toward Rugen and Lubec. The chancellor’s grim expression mirrored her husband’s as the two gazed at the horizon. She turned to one of the aides. “Take this note from Rugen to General Galen at once. Have him send messages to every garrison on the Great Sea coast to put them at full combat readiness. Send reinforcements from Stettin and every available ship from Riga to Rugen and Lubec. Also, send copies of the note by carrier bird to the rural governors and instruct them that they’ll have to send for reservists.”
The others had joined the leaders of the Hanse on the balcony to gaze at the dark horizon. Chancellor Hanser continued to issue orders. “General Eigels will take two regiments of the national militia and return in force to Rugen and Lubec. I want these orders written up and ready for my signature in one quarter of an hour.”
At her chancellor’s command, the aide darted past the meal table and along the corridor leading from the main dining room.
“We should also convene an emergency session of parliament,” continued the chancellor. “We need to brief the members so they can inform their constituents of what’s happening.”
Lawrence turned to his wife. “We should send messages to every town and city in the Hanse and inform Valor’s Keep. We may require immediate assistance.”
Fortinbras interjected. “This all sounds very incredulous.”
“I agree, but what choice have we?”
“It’s probably a force of highland rebels or pirates. It seems to me that this governor of yours may be sounding a false alarm.”
Chancellor Hanser shook her head. “You don’t know Governor Lessander. He doesn’t call false alarms — he’s very careful. He trusts his own instincts and so do I. And you’ll note that he has confirmation from the captain of the watch on Longpoint and the Praetorian garrison commander. We’ll verify the signatures and the seal, but in the meantime we have to take this seriously.”
Fortinbras sighed and looked out at the sleeping River Odra. Sporadic torch light reflected off its still waters. The invaders had approached the Hanse the same way he did. The Khadashite delegation – including his own daughter! – had missed being caught in it by a matter of hours. Keeping his feelings to himself, he responded, “It just seems so sudden.”
The chancellor gave a long exhale. “That’s what makes our assailants so dangerous. We never prepared for an invasion like this. Our coastal communities are only lightly defended, so even if it’s a false alarm, we can’t take chances.”
Lawrence met Fortinbras’ gaze. “Premier Fortinbras, I suggest that you and your daughter return home while you still can and shore up your defenses.”
The memory of his last conversation with Cain nearly a month ago came back to the premier, and now, with this sudden attack, the immediacy of the Time of Meeting weighed heavily on him. He recalled his last question to Cain, a question that the Chieftain couldn’t answer.
Tell me the truth, my friend. Will we survive?
Noting the premier’s hesitation, the chancellor explained, “We’re being invaded by an unknown force of incredible size from beyond the Great Sea. If Governor Lessander’s assessment is correct, a fleet of ships greater in size than our own navy is converging on Hansic’ coast, and they could carry tens of thousands of troops. If the Hanse can’t contain them, they will surely spread to your country.”
“We’re throwing everything we have at them,” added Lawrence, “and we may have to request assistance from Valor’s Keep. Now this city is likely to be the next target, so unless you want to find yourself in the middle of a bloody siege, I’d suggest that you and your people leave immediately. We’ll arrange for transport to Raskilburg. You can take a ship home from there.”
The chancellor of the Hanse shook her head. “What I don’t understand is why us. Why attack the Hansic Alliance?”
“Maybe they’re just starting here.” Dannia’s quiet words struck a disturbing chord.
The appearance of a dull orange glow on the horizon cut off any further discussion. “What’s that haze?” asked Dannia.
Tears welled in the chancellor’s eyes as she replied. “Rugen and Lubec are burning.”
Here ends Herald,
book one of
Harbinger’s End
Buy Harbinger’s End: Herald in print or ebook for maps, extra material and a preview of Harbinger’s End: The Time of Meeting.
